


Elia, The Good Queen

by ADreamOfBetterEndings



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, I am going to go ahead and say I have developed somewhat of a plot, I'm still not really sure what that means but this is not believable sometimes, Just me screaming that Elia deserved better, Just moments, M/M, Mentions of Attempted Suicide, Mentions of miscarriage, Rhaegar and Elia have a complicated relationship, Sexual Content, again we’re really just going for fluff here, crack maybe?, don't get your hopes up Lyanna is dead, jon and dany are babies/kids at the beginning so sit tight for their relationship, just a little, there really is not a plot here, there will be some serious moments but mostly I just want fluff between a mom and her kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:33:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28823766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADreamOfBetterEndings/pseuds/ADreamOfBetterEndings
Summary: “Princess Elia was a good woman, Your Grace. She was kind and clever, with a gentle heart and a sweet wit. I know the prince was very fond of her.”—Barristan Selmy to Daenerys Targaryen
Relationships: Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen
Comments: 273
Kudos: 262





	1. Her husband's son

**Author's Note:**

> I just once again had too many thoughts in my head.

Their marriage ended the second Rhaegar crowned Lyanna Stark the Queen of Love and Beauty, with a crown of blue winter roses on her head, and infidelity in his heart. 

Elia didn’t necessarily resent Rhaegar for it. They were never in love with each other, but they had become good friends through their marriage, were fond of each other, and she bore him two children, each of whom almost cost her life, one still a newborn who could hardly hold up his head at the time. 

Maybe it was her inability to carry him the third child that he so desperately wanted that caused a rift in their marriage and drove him to another woman’s arm. 

Maybe it was true love he had for the other woman - blinding, crippling, suffocating, and ultimately dangerous enough to start a war. 

Crowning Lyanna Stark The Queen of Love and Beauty had been more of a slap in the face than Elia cared to admit. She heard through the whispers from serving girls and maids that he had taken a liking to a northern woman, but she was bedridden for so long after almost losing her life while birthing Rhaegar the crown prince that she never had the chance to see it herself. 

Until the tournament where he walked his horse right past her and placed the crown of blue winter roses on Lyanna Stark’s head. 

It was humiliating. 

She warned him of getting involved with Robert’s betrothed and reminded him of the Barathan’s words “Ours is the Fury,” before absconding to Dorne with their children in tow. 

Oberyn came to collect her himself - concerned for his sister and her children’s well being. 

At one point when coming face to face with Rhaegar, Elia had to hold him back. 

It would be merits for beheading to strike the future king. He refrained, but not without a few choice words, before loading Elia and the children into a carriage, and with the protection of the Dornish army leading them back home. 

And that’s how Elia ended up here, in her home kingdom of Dorne, not even a year later. Impatiently tapping her foot as she watched the carriage following her husband unload. 

There had been rumors, of course there were, of a young maiden, stolen away in a tower, held there captive to be raped and used by the future king. 

Elia knew if the rumors were to be believed it was only partially true. 

Rhaegar wasn’t cruel. 

Unfaithful? Maybe

Stupid? Definitely. 

But never cruel. 

He never would have raped her, or any woman for that matter. 

She believed it though that Rhaegar had truly taken Lyanna as a lover once they left each other. But even _that_ wasn’t what enraged her. 

Not the mistress. Not even a second wife, she knew what she was getting into when she became betrothed to a Targaryen after all. 

But it was bringing her _here._

Hiding her away in Drone, her home, in the Tower of Joy when she’s sure he would have left and their children in King’s Landing, that was just sacked by the Lannisters. 

Rhaella would have gotten her and the children out in time and brought them to Dragonstone where she just arrived, but the city had been sacked and Aerys killed - it so easily could have been her and her children, left forgotten and in danger while her husband was galavanting with some northern mistress. 

With her arms crossed across her body and a deep scowl on her face, Elia watches Rhaegar dismount his horse and head to the carriage behind him, where she expects a heavily pregnant Lyanna Stark to exit the carriage. 

Instead of gripping the hand of the young lady exiting the carriage, he’s handed a bundle of blankets. 

_Oh._

So the rumors were true, they just hadn’t all reached her yet. 

She watches as Rhaegar gathers the bundle close to his chest and cranes his neck to place a soft little kiss on the baby’s head. 

Even from where she watches him she can see him sigh deeply. And then he heads to make his way inside with no one to follow him.

She feels like she’s standing there forever, waiting for him to approach her, she knows he’ll come for her, but maybe he is taking his time. 

He finally reaches her room. The bundle cradled safely in his arms, like a shield protecting him from her. She takes a quick glance at the babe then back to him. 

“I hope you got that second girl you so desperately wanted.” She bites harshly, more harshly than she even knew she was capable of.

“A boy,” he says with a sad chuckle, “I should have known. The gods always had a cruel sense of humor.” 

“Or perhaps they were punishing you!” She’s disappointed at her own words. This isn’t how she wants to sound, like a spiteful scorned wife. She knows she was better than that. Especially after seeing the callousness of the world, she knows she is kind. But right now she’s hurt, and she needs to take it out on the one who hurt her. 

“Possibly, but a child is never a punishment.” He says sadly and softly stroked a finger over the baby’s little black curls that are peaking out of the blanket. 

“I suppose not,” she says thinking of how fiercely she loves her own children. “Lyanna Stark?” She asks carefully, conscious that the woman didn’t exit the carriage with her baby, Elia knows what that’s likely to mean. 

“Died in her birthing bed,” Rhaegar says in nearly a whisper. 

Elia’s heart does clench then for the woman she wanted so badly to hate. 

Elia was so sick and bedridden for months after Rhaenys’ birth and almost lost her life bringing her sweet little Aegon into the world. She knew the terror Lyanna must have felt when she knew she was going to die. It wasn’t the fear of being thrust into the seven hells, or if finally meeting the mother, but the fear of being left to wonder who in the cruel world would take care of and protect her children, especially the newborn babe she just birthed. She can’t hate Lyanna for loving her child, or even for running away with Rhaegar really. It did nothing to benefit her to hate a ghost. 

Rhaegar she can hate though, and she would gladly, but not the innocent babe in his arms. He didn’t ask to be a part of this mess his parents brought upon him - upon all of Westeros currently as the war still raged on. 

“Are you and the children alright?” Rhaegar asks. 

“Fine.” Elia sighs, “thanks to Oberyn bringing us here. 

“I can never repay Oberyn for that. The city was sacked, my father is dead. My mother and Viserys were able to escape in time. That fool Tywin stormed it thinking Robert Barathan was still alive. He’s been executed, I’m still deciding on a punishment for Jamie Lannister. He did us all a favor by plunging a sword in my father's back.” 

Elia shudders at the thought of what could have happened to her family if they had been in the Keep during the sack. Rhaella would have gotten them out safely, her good mother was as kind as her good father was cruel. 

“They miss you,” Elia says, returning the conversation to more pleasant thoughts of their children. “Rhaenys cries for you almost every night. And Little Egg, I’m surprised he even remembers but I believe he keeps thinking it will be you every time someone comes through a door.” 

“I miss them too,” Rhaegar says and gives a little smile to the baby in his arms who makes a sleepily little sound. 

In a moment his smile drops into a frown though when those little sounds turn into sad little fussy whimpers, and Elia knows them to be the sound of a newborn hungry for his mother’s milk. 

“I have to find him a wet nurse,” Rhaegar informs her, “his fell sick on our journey here.” 

The little cries grow louder and more impatient, and Elia feels a pull in her breast responding to the infant’s cries. 

“Give him to me.” She says reaching out her arms ready to accept the babe. 

Rhaegar hesitates. 

“I won’t hurt him Rhaegar. I’m still nursing Aegon in the mornings and at night. I have what he needs, and honestly with the sound of those little cries feeding him is going to prevent me from an uncomfortable night.”

Almost reluctantly Rhaegar hands Elia the baby, she has to remind herself not to take it too personally. There aren’t many people he can trust right now. 

She finally gets a good look at the babe now that he is in her arms and the first thing that strikes her is how much his scrunched up mad little face looks like her Rhaenys. She always thought her oldest took after her, but now she realizes how much she looks like her father. 

She bounces the babe in her arms and quietly shooshes him as she makes her way over to the seat in the room and shrugs off the shoulder of her gown to coax the baby onto her breast. 

Only when he is latched on and calms does she notice how much like Lyanna Stark he looks, and even her brother Ned. 

“How old is he?” She asks looking up at Rhaegar who’s standing awkwardly against the wall, looking anywhere but her.

“Rhaegar, be reasonable,” she scolds, “it is nothing you haven’t seen before.” 

He looks back at her, his face slightly blushed, “um, just about two moon turns, close to three.” 

“Didn’t waste any time did you?” She angrily mumbles to herself, “and what did you name him since Visneya is off the table?” she questions. 

“Lyanna named him,” he admits sadly. “She wanted him to be called Jon. I think Jaehaerys is more appropriate for a Targaryen Prince.” 

“Hmmm,” she hums, staring down at the little thing snuggled against her chest. Then for the first time, he opens his eyes to her and the little baby could not be anymore a Stark. His eyes are so dark and steely Gray like every great Stark legend ever told. And even though his gaze is slightly unfocused and very sleepy he studies her with what she thinks must be a little bit of trust before closing his eyes again, all of his energy consumed by getting his meal. 

“I think Jon is the perfect name for this northern boy,” she whispers to the baby more than Rhaegar. And at that moment, she can’t quite understand why, but she falls in love with the child of her husband. Maybe it is because she was always good and kind, and knew it would someday be her fatal flaw, but nothing this little baby did was his fault. 

It would be so easy to hate him for it, but so much easier to live a life without resentment. 

And he would be another sibling for her children to share the burden of the crown and this mess of a world they lived in. 

“I’ll take care of you little one,” she says, pinkie finger smoothing down the little frown lines on his forehead. Not even three moons old and already so concerned with the world. 

Once Jon finishes eating Elia banishes Rhaegar to her solar, he can sleep on a cot in there with the baby in his cradle next to him until he’s old enough to sleep through the night. Until then when the babe wakes to feed in the middle of the night Rhaegar can bring him to her. 

She is already doing him a favor and this is the least he can do. 

It is a good plan until Elia remembers how useless her husband is. 

Only a few quick hours of sleep later, which isn’t uncommon for a babe so young, Elia wakes to the sound of little whimpers coming for the next room over where Rhaegar is supposed to be tending to the babe.

She gets up and walks into the next room where Rhaegar is dead asleep on his cot. She approaches the bassinet to find Jon’s little face red from crying and tears streaming down his cheeks. 

The second he catches sight of Elia he continues to cry but lifts his chubby little arms so desperately towards her. 

Even with his sad little cries, the babe is so quiet. He’s hushed the moment she gathers him in her arms and moves her night shift out of the way to get Jon to start nursing. “Just hungry,” she sighs and repositions the baby so he is cradled close to her in one arm as she approaches her sleeping husband. 

She rips the pillow from under his head and uses it to whack him awake. 

“Wa...what.. Elia, what are you doing?” He asks groggily, rubbing his eyes and turning towards the window where he sees it’s still dark out.

“Your son was crying!” She hisses holding Jon a little closer to her. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear him.” 

Elia stands there for a moment pondering what she should do, tapping her foot angrily. Finally, she sighs and looks at Rhaegar. 

“Bring his bassinet onto your side of the bed.” He does as she says while she climbs into the bed careful not to jostle the still nursing baby and then switches Jon to her other breast. Rhaegar stands there looking confused until she gives him an equally confused look. 

“Are you going to get in?” She questions him. 

“I thought you didn’t want me in your bed.” 

“I don’t but when he is done I will hand you the baby to burp, while I go back to sleep. Now if Jon wakes up again I can smack you with a pillow from here instead of walking into the other room to do it.” 

He gets into bed and waits for her to hand him the baby. He wants to reach out and touch her while she feeds him, let her recline on his chest while he holds both of them as they had done with Rhaenys, but that was the last thing Elia wanted and he can understand why. 

When Jon is done eating Rhaegar is handed the baby and Elia quickly falls back asleep. He looks down at the little boy who looks so much like his deceased wife, and to his right where his first wife and mother of his two other children sleeps next to him. 

He doesn’t deserve Elia. He can’t think of any other noble-born woman who would do this for their husband’s child. Most women wouldn’t even feed their own children at their breast, but when their first two came Elia made it clear there would be no wet nurses or maids, she would do it all herself. And she is kind enough to give Jon the same attention. 

Morning comes quickly for them after one more night feed where Rhaegar was on high alert and woke to Jon’s first little whimpers. He was even able to get him latched onto Elia while hardly waking her. 

She simply sighed and moved to wrap the babe in her arms while she nursed him on her side. 

She mumbled something that Rhaegar wasn’t able to make out but he decided it sounded loving. 

Now they were up once more with the curtains drawn allowing the dim morning light to flood into the room. Elia was wide awake and informed him this was about the time their other children woke anyway. Up with the sun. And sure enough not too much later Rhaegar hears the push of the heavy wood door and the soft voice of his only daughter. 

“Momma!” Rhaenys calls from her mother’s solar. 

Elia watches Rhaegar dash out of her chamber and the sleepy little voice of her daughter quickly changes to excited screams and cries of “Kepa!”

Jon startles at her first scream but is quickly hushed by Elia and he continues to stare into her eyes as he nurses. 

“Let’s see momma, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Rhaegar says, leading Rhaenys by her hand into the chamber. 

“Momma look! Papa’s,” Rhaenys stops short when she notices the little baby at her mother's chest. 

She slowly and hesitantly approaches the bed that Rhaegar helps her get on and she carefully crawls to her mother and takes a look at the little baby in her arms. 

“Is this my new baby brother?” She asks looking between parents for confirmation. 

“It is,” Rhaegar says but with a small smile. 

“What’s his name?” She asks curiously. 

“This is Jon,” her father tells her. 

“But momma, your tummy didn’t get all big like with Eggy.”

“No this baby came a little different,” Elia tells her carefully. 

“Oh,” Rhaenys said, fascinated with her new little brother. 

“Can I hold him?” She asks and sticks her arms straight out as if ready to accept him right away. 

“Maybe when he is done with his breakfast and settled.”

At that, another cry sounds from the next room over. It is Aegon alerting the castle he is awake and refuses to be alone for even a second. 

“I’ll get him,” Rhaegar says and stands from the bed while ruffling Rhaenys hair. “Keep your mama company.” 

A moment later Rhaegar walks in with Aegon who’s all smiles until he notices the baby. 

“Aegon, you’re a big brother now,” Rhaegar tells the newly one-year-old. He sets him on the bed and the toddler stares at his mother accusingly.

“No!” He says with a huff. A word that Elia didn’t even know he knew, her smiley little boy’s vocabulary is usually limited to words like “yes and mama”. 

“Come here my sweet boy,” Elia says to Aegon, “come meet your little brother.” 

Aegon crawls over and gives one look at Jon nursing from Elia and his frown turns into a scowl. Then, quicker than Elia and Rhaegar would have suspected from a one-year-old, and too fast to stop him, Aegon shouts “no” while he grabs onto the baby and quickly tugs him away from Elia. 

Elia gasps from the sudden sharp pull at her nipple as Jon is ripped from her chest. 

Jon looks startled and then for the first time since arriving to Elia he starts to wholeheartedly wail. 

“Aegon, no!” Rhaegar says sternly and loud enough to be heard over the sobs of his younger son and moves Aegon away. 

“Mine!” Aegon yells, reaching for his mother, and then begins to sob as well. 

Elia scoops Jon back up to hold him against her chest one hand below his little bottom, the other supporting his wobbly head. 

“Get him out of here and calm him down, Rhaegar!” Elisa says as the two boys continue to wail. 

Rhaegar leaves her and Rhaenys, who’s sitting on the bed with her hands over her ears trying to drown out her brothers' crying.

“Shhhh, it’s ok Jon,” Elia says holding the baby close and gently rocking him. 

“It’s ok Jon Jon,” Rhaenys says crawling closer to her mother and patting the baby’s back. “Mama always makes it better.” 

At his sister's words, Jon’s wails die down and turn into sad sobs instead. Elia pulls him away so she can look at his face, his little lip is wobbling and it breaks her heart to see his sad eyes look like he is pleading with her. 

“Let’s try breakfast again,” she says and offers him her other breast this time.

“He’s cute mama,” Rhaenys says as Jon begins to suckle again. 

_At least one of my children likes their new brother._ Elia thinks. 

“He looks like us,” Rhaenys comments. 

“What do you mean by that?” Elia asks the four-year-old.

“He’s got our eyes mama. Black like yours and mine. And black hair with little curls! He’s just pale like Papa. But he looks like you, mama.”

Elia knows all too well those were the eyes of Lyanna Stark. In fact, she knows his whole looks scream Stark, apart from the little faces he made last night that reminded her so much of Rhaenys, but maybe only a mother would notice that. 

Explaining to her four-year-old that her new brother has a different mama, and then the inevitable following questions of where his mama is aren’t on the top of Elia’s list. So instead she gathers Rhaenys against her side that isn’t occupied by Jon and listens to Rhaenys tell Jon all of the things she’ll teach him, while Jon nurses and Rhaenys plays with his little sock-clad feet. 

When he’s done, Elia props up some pillows and lets Rhaenys hold Jon. Rhaegar returns and Elia takes Aegon who tries to find his way under her shift to her breast. 

“No Aegon,” she says sitting down and holding him in her lap so he’s forced to look at her. “You’re a big boy now, you’ll eat breakfast with Papa, Rhaenys, and I.”

“No.” He says with a huff and crossing his arms.

“Jon is just a little baby, he needs milk.” 

“No!” he stubbornly says again. 

Elia looks at Rhaegar who gives her a half-hearted shrug. “He’ll grow used to him,” he tells her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, I really am that bitch I promised to never be, starting another parter while I have ONE part left on my other story. I promise promise promise, I will finish that one, as I promise I will finish this one too. I just hope writing improves writing and getting some of this out of my head leaves room for the last part of He Needs to Know. 
> 
> Until then, please enjoy some Targaryen family fluff with sweet Elia Martell who I hope we all can agree deserved better. Chapters will be inconsistent in timing, length, content, etc. We will try and go chronologically though as our Targlings grow up, that's the only promise I can make.


	2. Quarrels

Even after the war was officially over, it took several weeks for the fighting across Westeros to cease. For a place where rumors spread like wildfire, it was astonishing how slowly important news traveled. Rhaegar suspected some of the quarrels lingered because of families using the war as an excuse to duke out old feuds. Or because others, like the Greyjoys who were hawkish by nature, were simply looking for a reason to fight, and a way to succeed. 

_ Finally _ though, the fighting across Westeros stopped, and now Rhaegar prayed to the gods that the animosity in his own household would come to an end. 

Elia was, understandably,  _ furious _ . He knew her well enough to know the indifference she directed towards him indicated she was really mad. At one point he almost begged her to scream at him and hit him. He would have taken every jab or criticism she threw at him, every horrible thing she could have said, every beat of her fist against his chest. He would have begged for her forgiveness, told her he was sorry till his voice went raw, and promised her the moon, but she never even brought it up. 

He wanted her to express her rage somehow because he felt so guilty. 

That wasn’t Elia’s way, not when she was truly angry. 

She never missed a thing around her: never so much as a shrug, a sigh, or even a glance. She was clever and knew what made people tick, and even though she was gentle and kind she knew how to hurt him. 

While she continued to torture him, Rhaegar could at least attempt to make her life easier by helping their children adjust to their new baby brother. 

Rhaenys, who never had any interest in the hundreds of toys gifted for the perfect little princess, instead preferring her bow and arrow and little sparring swords, loved pretending Jon was her real-life doll. 

She liked to help her father dress him in the morning, picking out her favorite of his clothes, keep him entertained when her parents were busy with royal duties, and hold him whenever she got the chance. At night she would repeat all her lessons she learned that day to him, and Elia joked Jon would know all the Houses and their words before his first name day. 

Rhaenys even took it upon herself to seek out the royal seamstress and demand they make a special stuffed toy for her little brother. She and her brother had dragons, but she got the idea for his toy from her mother and father, who were constantly referring to the baby as their “little wolf”, though she didn’t quite understand why. The only person more delighted than she when presented with the stuffed white wolf with bright red eyes, was Jon, who now couldn’t sleep without it. 

Aegon took longer than Rhaenys to come around to his little brother. The first few months Elia and Rhaegar could not take their eyes off the boys when they were together for serious fears Aegon would hurt the baby. 

Aegon was fiercely territorial of his mother. Watching her nurse, snuggle, or ever hold Jon was likely to result in the little boy having a complete meltdown. It wasn’t just limited to his new brother though. Sometimes he would push and even hit his father if he laid a hand on Elia - intimacy between the two was long gone, but so much as a hand on the small of her back was enough to set Aegon off. 

“I don’t understand what has gotten into him,” Rhaegar says to Elia, exasperated one night after dealing with another screaming fit from the boy. 

“You abandoned him Rhaegar,” Elia bites with enough venom in her voice that it would make the snakes of Dorne quake. “He isn’t used to sharing me with anyone apart from Rhaenys, and you know how independent she is. Maybe if you start spending some time with him he will demand less of mine,” she says with a huff and turns away from him in their bed hoping to end this conversation and get a few hours of sleep before needing to feed the baby again. 

The next day Rhaegar puts some time aside to spend with Aegon. Elia is right to think his older son feels neglected after being left only to return with a new baby. “Would you like to read some of your books today, Aegon?” Rhaegar asks. 

He looks through the books in his nursery, most of them are full of pictures with few words. They’ll get through all of those in an hour. 

“You’re not too young to learn about our family,” Rhaegar tells the little boy with his silver hair picking him up and carrying him to his study. 

Rhaegar sets Aegon on his desk and looks through his bookshelf choosing a part of their history his child might enjoy. “This is a good one,” Rhaegar says pulling the massive book off the shelf and laying it on his desk. He picks Aegon back up and sets him on his lap, “this is ‘The Dance of the Dragons.’” 

“Seven Hells, Rhaegar!” Elia scolds later that night while Rhaegars tells her what he and Aegon did with their day. “We are trying to get Aegon to stop hating his brother! You couldn’t have picked a story that wasn’t about brothers fighting a civil war?” 

The next morning Elia wakes hoping to get Jon up early before she had a busy day of holding court. He was sleeping through the night now, but Aegon had woken them up in the middle of the night. Rhaegar went to go check on him and soothe him back to sleep. 

“Why was he crying?” Elia mumbles when she feels the bed next to her shift as Rhaegar gets in it. 

“I think it was a nightmare,” Rhaegar sighs. So far two of the three Targaryen children had been plagued by Dragon Dreams, they suspected for Jon it would only be a matter of time. 

“I told you you shouldn’t have read him that book.”

“He should be fine for the rest of the night.” 

He wasn't fine for the rest of the night though, and apparently whatever had unsettled him could only be soothed by the presence of his little brother because when Elia walks up to Jon’s crib Aegon is there too. The two little boys are curled up, facing each other, Aegon's arm across Jon's torso with their little dragon and wolf stuffies snuggled in between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments! I'm glad people like this. I don't love this chapter but I hope was ok, it was supposed to make the next chapter longer but turned into its own thing, and I wanted to make sure we weren't letting Rhaegar off that easy.


	3. The Pox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point, these updates will become less frequent as I run out of parts I have already written. Until then enjoy this next little part.

Jon had become such a natural addition to their family once they had gotten through the first few bumps of adding a new child to the family. He was a good baby, though often solemn, Rhaegar was constantly reassuring Elia that the baby was happy. He clearly adored his siblings and even Aegon was warming up to him, he would share his toys when Jon reached for them and he liked to show Jon his favorite books. 

Rhaegar wasn’t allowed to read them The Dance of the Dragons anymore, even though, and Elia hated to admit it, something from it had clicked with her little boy, and after he no longer wanted to be at odds with his new brother. 

It was important to Rhaegar though that they learn their family’s history, even at a young age, and Elia didn’t disagree with that, so she had three books, more suitable for children, commissioned. One focusing on the Targaryens, another one detailing the Martells in Dorne, and an extra special one about the Starks of Winterfell. 

It wasn’t uncommon for the family of five to pile in Rhaegar and Elia’s expansive bed and read from one of the books. Aegon was delighted by the pages full of script and some small illustrations, Rhaenys did her best to read a few sentences on her own, and Jon couldn’t have been happier to doze off in either Rhaegar, Elia, or Rhaenys arms. It didn’t matter to him who he was being held by as long as he was cuddled. 

After that everything had been going well until Jon woke up with a ragged cough and high fever one morning. 

“Please tell me he’ll be ok,” Elia begged the Maester. 

Jon whimpered on the makeshift exam table where the Maester was looking over him. 

The baby’s usually firm grip on her finger was now so loose and weak as he whimpered and squirmed in discomfort. 

“You can pick him back up now.” The Maester told Elia and she quickly gathered Jon against her chest and sat down in the rocking chair that had been brought to her room earlier. 

Jon shivered against her even though a fever raged through him. She unbuttoned her gown to lay him on her chest. She knows skin to skin is good for newborns so there has to be some benefit for the six-month-old. She draped his favorite blanket over both of them, a warm wool piece, embroidered with wolves and dragons - a gift from his family up north. 

They separated the children immediately upon noticing Jon was sick and none of them were happy about it. 

Rhaegar didn’t want Elia to stay with him, her health had always been so fragile, but Jon was being so clingy towards her, and she had a dreadful feeling that she knew what plagued him. And to her extreme regret, she had been right, it was the pox, just as she feared. An ailment she had as a child, one that almost took her life, that fortunately, she couldn’t get again so she could stay with Jon, but one that was dangerous for a boy Jon’s age. 

“There’s nothing more we can do for him I’m afraid. Just keep him comfortable and as cool as possible, the medicine I gave him should help in bringing down his fever. We’ll try to give him water and milk if he’ll nurse. If he survives the night he’ll be alright.” The master explained to her. 

“If?” Elia asked alarmed. 

“I’ve seen many children, much older and stronger than he, taken by the pox. He will live if he can make it through the night.” The Maester said and Elia gave him a solemn nod.

“Your grace," he said while exiting the room.

“Stronger than you? Impossible. You are the strongest boy I know, Jon,” Elia said and kissed his sweaty little forehead.

It was a long torturous night of listening to the little boy’s struggling breaths and ragged coughs. His skin burned hot against hers with his fever but the poor little thing couldn’t stop shivering. She got him to sleep intermittently, but he woke up every 20 minutes or so, too uncomfortable to even sleep. She tried to lie down with him so he could snuggle with her, but Elia grew restless and Jon seemed to like her pacing more anyway, it helped to rock him to sleep even if he didn’t dream for long. 

“Please don’t die, Jon, please. I can’t lose you, I love you too much.” 

She cried and pleaded. She prayed to the seven, and to the old gods for her little northern boy. 

At one point Jon was struggling so hard to breathe that Elia was sure if his heart were to stop hers would stop too. Her family would be broken without him. 

_ Why are the gods so cruel?  _ She thought to herself. The sweet little boy in her arms had never done a thing wrong in his life, and now he was fighting for it. 

People were cruel too. 

She heard whispers around the castle of people calling Jon a bastard. How she had been reduced to nothing more than a glorified nursemaid. How it would be a blessing for her if the baby didn’t make it. 

They had no idea how wrong they were. 

She loved Jon, and losing him now would destroy her. 

So she kept praying and followed every instruction the Maester gave her to help Jon get through this. And then finally after the longest, most torturous night of her life, worse than the nights spent laboring her two other children into the world, morning broke, and with it Jon’s fever. 

He was still in her arms, breathing, heart beating, and blissfully sleeping. 

Elia plopped down in the rocking chair and started to cry in relief. She was exhausted but Jon was ok. The Maester returned to her and confirmed as much. 

Jon slept through the exam and Elia placed soft kisses on his rosy cheeks that were still a little warm but no longer worrying. 

“I love you so so much, my son,” Elia told him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for your comments, it’s helping me clarify things that in my brain I thought have happened but I haven’t actually written them that way. You're also giving me ideas and I appreciate that because the middle still needs a little work.


	4. Stormborn

Rhaegar hated storms. 

That’s what he decides while watching the monstrous waves slam his fleet of ships against the cliffs of Dragonstone destroying what it looked like would be every single one of them. 

He hates storms, they fall second in line to the few things in this world he allowed to truly scare him. More than storms, he hates and deeply fears childbirth. 

It took some convincing but eventually, he, Elia, and the children moved back to King's Landing where he ruled as King, and began to clean up the mess he and Robert Barathan had made. 

No amount of convincing in the world, however, could get his mother to come back to King’s Landing. She decided that she and Viserys would remain on Dragonstone and far away from her husband's ghost. She didn’t want to have anything to do with that treacherous city or cursed Keep. 

Once she was well into her pregnancy, Rhaegar and Elia decided it would be a good time to visit, Rhaella hadn’t met Jon yet and she was confined to her bed. They could help out with Viserys who was getting more difficult by the day and keep her company. 

And then no matter the amount of dreading it, the day came and Rhaella was woken up by sharp pains signaling the time for her child’s birth. 

Rhaegar hated childbirth. He lost one wife to it, almost two, and far too many little brothers and sisters. 

There was absolutely nothing he could to do help and would only be an anxious presence so he ended up on the opposite side of the castle with all four children restlessly sleeping. He tried to get them as far away from his mother’s screams as possible but the screams mixed with the raging storm left them all unsettled. 

He had already dealt with a handful of meltdowns and temper tantrums from the little kids. Aegon was scared of the storm, Rhaenys was still upset they left her beloved cat, Balerion, in Kings Landing, and Jon, who adored his grandmother, and she him, didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed in the room with her to give her cuddles and make everything better. 

Elia was helping his mother and the maester with the birth, so it was up to him to keep all the children entertained for the day and then tucked in bed. 

Well the storm assured that matter would be difficult, but eventually after a tiring day, and way after everyone’s bedtime, they all ended up sleeping in Jon’s nursery. A little cot had been rolled in that was currently occupied by a slumbering Rhaenys and Viserys while Rhaegar was slumped in a rocking chair with his two-year-old and almost one-year-old passed out on top of him. 

Rhaegar looked down at the boys who were loosely holding hands in their sleep. It had taken some time but eventually, Aegon accepted Jon’s place in their life and the two were now becoming friends. Rhaegar was impatient to get them on the training field and sparing together, he knew they’d be best friends growing up, of course, it would take some time for that still, Jon had only just begun to walk instead of crawl and was not much better than wobbling like a drunk man after too much ale. 

Suddenly the latch on the heavy wood door sounds and Rhaegar cranes his neck to see Elia entering the nursery. 

Rhaegar moves to stand but the two boys aren’t in his grip well enough so he’s confined in his chair. 

“My mother? How is she? The babe?” He asks faster than she can answer. 

Elia looks grim as she approaches and carefully plucks Jon from Rhaegar’s chest. Snuggling him close so his head rests on her shoulder. He makes a few tired grumbly noises but she sways him back and forth and quickly he falls back to sleep. Rhaegar is surprised she doesn’t immediately put him in his crib but he stands and gently lies Aegon down in there, too exhausted by the day to wake, while Elia continues rocking Jon and kissing his head. 

“It was another stillborn, wasn't it? Gods my poor mother, hasn’t she lost enough children?”

“The babe is fine.” She tells him. “You have a beautiful healthy little sister.” 

“A girl?” He breaths. “That’s wonderful news.” He says with a smile and Elia holds Jon closer still. “Why do you look so grim?” 

She lets out a shaky breath and he can see the tears forming in her eyes, “You need to wake Viserys and say goodbye to your mother.” 

“What?” He asks and she can see his world crashing around him. 

“She’s lost so much blood and she’s so weak. She won’t survive the night. The maester is doing everything in his power, but she wants to enjoy what time she has with her daughter.” 

Rhaegar just stands there, mouth agape, not knowing what to do. 

“Go be with her. I will handle the children. And if your mother is too weak to feed the baby, send someone to fetch me, and I’ll take care of it. I can’t bear to think of one more child in this world without a mother.” 

She says and places a kiss against Jon’s unruly curls, and now Rhaegar understands why his wife is being so affectionate towards his son. 

He just nods and goes to the cot to wake up Viserys. He has to extract him from Rhaenys who’s curled around her uncle like an octopus. 

He leads out a grumpy Viserys who’s rubbing his eyes and complaining he can see “the dumb baby” in the morning. 

Elia confirms Rhae and Aegon are still sleeping before moving to the rocking chair Rhaegar was seated in when she entered. 

Jon lets out a big sigh in his sleep once she gets settled and snuggles further into her embrace while she gently pulls her fingers through his curls. 

“You’ll have an aunt to play with now, Jon. Won’t that be fun? A little girl for you and Aegon to protect,” she tells him with a sad smile. “And she’ll be loved. Even though she doesn’t have a mother. I’ll love her just like I love Rhaenys, Aegon, and you.” 

She holds Jon for a little bit longer. 

— 

Rhaella Targaryen passes away peacefully the same night she brings her daughter into the world. Her new baby on her chest and sons and good daughter by her side. 

A moment after she took her last breath Viserys screamed at the new baby that he hated her and stormed back to his room slamming every door along the way. 

Elia sighed and wiped the tears from her eyes, moving to take the new baby into her arms. 

“No.” Rhaegar says softly, his eyes so red and swollen from crying, “I’ll take her.” He says and stands to kiss his mother’s forehead before scooping up her baby. 

The newest addition to the Targaryen family, Daenerys Stormborn, Rhaella named her before she passed away, whimpers for a moment, then settles into her brother's embrace. 

“I’ll take good care of them, Mother,” Rhaegar tells her body before reluctantly exiting her bedroom. 

“I will too,” Elia promises and follows Rhaegar into their room. 

He’s already in the bed and Elia moves in gently beside him, careful not to jostle the babe. 

“I forget how small they are when they’re born,” Rhaegar says never taking his eyes off his baby sister. 

Elia doesn’t say anything, she just moves to wrap her arms around Rhaegar and rest her chin on his shoulder. An embrace they haven’t shared since before Robert’s Rebellion. 

The new baby is small, and a few weeks early by Rhaella’s accounts, but healthy as can be according to the Maester. She already has some Targaryen silver hair on top of her head, and wide eyes that Elia believes will soon change to violet. The little one has dark brows and full lips, with a little pout almost like Aegon’s. 

“She looks just like your mother,” Elia whispers, moving to stroke a finger across the baby’s downy cheek. “We should swaddle her and put her in the cradle,” Elia says, but she and Rhaegar just sit there holding the baby.

“You sleep, I’ll put her down when I’m ready,” he says and gives her a sad smile.

Elia kisses his cheek and quickly falls asleep, only to be woken a few hours later by the piercing shriek of a newborn. 

It wakes her instantly. 

Rhaegar is still next to her rocking the baby trying to get her to calm down.

“I don’t know what happened,” he says looking flustered, “one second she was fine then all of a sudden she started screaming,” he says and nervously tries to calm her. 

Without thinking twice about it, Elia takes the newborn from her husband and lowers her gown off her shoulder, and coaxes Daenerys onto her breast. 

She lets out a sharp gasp after a particularly strong suck from the baby, but Daenerys quiets quickly. 

“Gods,” Rhaegar signs rubbing his eyes, “She’s louder than a dragon.” 

“Feeds like one too,” Elia comments to Rhaegar and then turns her focus back to the baby. “Slow down little one, you’re going to choke.” She says stroking the baby’s cheek. 

“You don’t have to do this you know,” Rhaegar says while watching Elia wince as Daenerys continues to feed, “we can get a wet nurse this time.” 

“I fed all of our other children, I don’t see why I shouldn’t give this one the same attention.” 

“She is ours now isn’t she?” Rhaegar says sadly. 

Elia takes his hand in her free one and gives it a squeeze. “We’ll love her as much as your mother would. And we’ll take care of her.” She pauses, “Viserys too.”

“He gets more difficult by the day.” Rhaegar frowns.

“Let's worry about that later. Right now we should focus on your new sister. We’ll let Viserys mourn and if it continues to be an issue we’ll take care of it.” With that, the sound of a soft pop brings their attention back to the baby who’s released Elia’s nipple and has fallen asleep against her breast. 

Rhaegar gently extracts her from Elia and lays her on his chest while he pats her back. 

—

The next morning Rhaegar and Elia are more careful in introducing the new baby to their children, especially since Elia was still occasionally nursing Jon - they don’t want a repeat of what happened with Aegon. 

After Daenerys is fed and swaddled she stays in the room with Rhaegar while Elia goes to get the children. 

Rhaenys comes bounding in first, followed by Elia who’s leading Aegon by the hand, and carrying Jon on her hip. 

“Is this the new baby, Kepa?” Rhaenys asks peering into the bundle of blankets. 

“Yes, this is your aunt, Daenerys.” He tells her and tilts his arms so she can look at the sleepy baby.

“A girl?” Rhaenys shouts, excited to finally have another girl in the family. She told her grandmother to make it a girl since two brothers and an uncle were enough boys and was very disappointed to learn that you don’t get to choose. 

Aegon rolls his eyes at the mention of another baby and lets go of his mother’s hand to toddler over to the bookshelf in his parents' room. 

Elia shifts her hold on Jon who’s leaning forward trying to get a better look at what’s in his father's arms. She brings him closer. 

“Bb?” He asks Elia, pointing at the child. 

“Yes,” Elia confirms, “this is your aunt Daenerys.” She tells him. 

“Mmm,” Jon hums and flexes his little hands while reaching forward like he does when he sees something he wants. 

Elia and Rhaegar do some maneuvering so Rhaegar has both Jon and the baby in his arms. “Gentle,” they say together when Jon reaches a hand up to touch the baby’s face. But it isn’t necessary because with the gentleness that surprises both of them coming from a not yet one-year-old Jon strokes Daenerys soft cheek then places a kiss on her head. 

When he looks up he’s beaming, with the biggest smile Elia has ever seen from the usually solemn and serious little boy. 

“That was very nice, Jon,” Elia says and bends to place a kiss on the toddler's wild curls. 

“My turn, Jon Jon,” Rhaenys says already sitting in a chair with a pillow on her lap, ready to hold the new baby. 

Elia moves to take the baby from her husband but Jon wraps his arms around her a little tighter and starts making annoyed little humming noises, letting Elia know he doesn’t want the baby to be taken away. 

“Jon,” she says softly, “we are going to give Rhaenys a turn holding Daenerys, but she isn’t going anywhere. Can we let your sister hold her?” 

Rhaegar and Elia hardly ever has to scold Jon, he usually reacts positively to their kind words, and now is no exception. Reluctantly Jon lets her take the baby, but his eyes never leave her as she’s moved across the room, even as Rhaegar tries to give him cuddles and praise him for being so good with the baby. 

Rhaenys is happy to hold the baby for a few minutes before looking around the room confused and realizing someone is missing. “Where’s Grandmother?” she asks. 

Elia looks at Rhaegar who’s holding Jon a little tighter and then over to Aegon, content to flip through his book. The boys are too little to understand but Rhaenys is five now and would have to learn about death eventually, so Elia sighs sadly and takes on the difficult task of explaining death to a child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry about killing Rhaella.


	5. To feel something else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's add a little bit of... spice.

Elia hadn’t felt this good in, well, she didn’t really know how long. 

In fact, she was getting to the point where she couldn’t remember feeling anything other than tired and irritated. 

It had only been one moon since the death of Rhaegar’s mother but every day of that month felt like an eternity. 

Between dealing with a fussy newborn, a five-year-old dealing with grief for the first time, a difficult good brother, and two rambunctious toddlers, Elia wasn’t sure she had more than an hour of uninterrupted sleep for the past month, and it was weighing in her. 

After a month on Dragonstone, the royal family headed back to King's Landing with two new additions in tow and the ashes of the Queen Mother Rhaella Targaryen. The trip was exhausting and seemed to take forever, despite the short distance. That plus a couple of missed naps and the day had been a disaster. 

And after finally getting all of the children to bed that’s how Rhaegar and Elia ended up here. It started with a screaming match, what they were screaming about she couldn’t even remember right now. She screamed at him and jabbed her finger into his chest walking him back until he was up against a wall, and then before she knew it, they were kissing. A hot angry kiss that was all tongue and teeth. Then their clothes were ripped off. Then his head was between her thighs. And now here they were both naked on their bed with Rhaegar relentlessly pounding into her.

_And gods did it feel good_. 

It had been so long since they had been intimate with each other. Years. Since before Aegon was born. And she honestly thought she’d never be able to trust him like this again, but he already made her come once, and he had remembered everything she liked, and she just wanted to feel good and energized after being so tired for so long.

So she lets him make her feel good, and when his thumb comes to the bundle of nerves in between her legs she almost immediately comes again. He doesn’t let up though, shifting to his knees and holding onto her waist while he drives into her. He’s close and she knows it, she remembers the signs, and then in a moment of clarity she tells him to pull out. 

“What?” He asks, without faltering or stopping. His forehead is sweaty and eyes glazed over with desire - she thinks he didn’t even really hear her. 

“Pull out.” She commands once again, but he’s too gone and doesn’t seem to understand.

“Rhaegar pull out!” She shouts this time, and her hand finds the hard panes of his stomach, right below his mangled ribs, courtesy of Roberts war hammer that will never fully heal, and pushes him with enough force that he slips out of her and almost off the bed, just in time for his warm seed to shoot across her stomach.

He sits there panting and looking dumbfounded for a moment, and she’s panting too before he grabs a cloth and starts cleaning her up. 

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely and looking incredibly guilty, “I should have asked, I didn’t mean to...” He looks ashamed as he concentrates on wiping away any evidence of their coupling.

“No, Rhaegar, that wasn’t why. I was more than happy to partake in that,” she says a little breathless herself, “we just have to be more careful. You can’t spill your seed inside me, I can’t risk getting pregnant.”

“I thought the maester said you can't get pregnant again?” 

“Not that I cannot, but that I should not. I won’t survive another pregnancy.” 

“But there is always moon tea if we make a mistake, isn’t there?” 

“Not if I plan to keep feeding your sister,” and with that, the shrill cry of an unhappy baby echoes through their chamber.

While Jon was kept close to their bed for fear of not hearing his quiet little cries, Dany has to be kept in the nursery with the door closed to lessen the absolute shock from being jolted awake by her loud dragon screams. 

They both sign and sometimes Elia wishes she was the one who was crying as she makes to get out of the bed. 

“I’ve got her,” Rhaegar says, tossing the cloth in the laundry for the maids to take, and leaning over to place a soft kiss on Elia’s lips before hopping off the bed and tugging a pair of trousers on. 

By the time Elia has the pillows arranged around her to help with nursing, Rhaegar is back with a furious little baby, cheeks red and stained with little tears, her arms and legs thrashing and screaming at the top of her lungs. Rhaegar lays her on the pillows and as always Elia braces herself for the sharp tug as Daenerys starts to nurse. 

She quiets immediately though, and her actions gentle once she realizes she is getting what she wants. 

“You have quite the temper, little one,” Elia says while her fingers smooth down the tuffs of moonlight hair on Dany’s head. Dany looks up at her with her violet eyes so innocently like she had done nothing wrong. She had gained a good amount of weight since her month on this earth, and even though she was still little, she was getting chunky with cute little rolls at her wrists and ankles, and her cheeks were filling out as well. 

Rhaegar drapes a blanket around Elia’s shoulders and shuffles closer, putting his arm around her so she can recline against his chest. They had grown a lot as a couple since he came home that night with Jon, and even more so in the past month since Rhaegar lost his mother. They didn’t love each other, they never did, and she wouldn’t lie to herself that they do now, but the things they had to go through were easier if they endured them together.

“I really am sorry, about the fight earlier. I deserved everything you said,” Rhaegar tells her. 

_That’s right._

That’s what they were fighting about earlier. It started out as a stupid fight over trivial things like Rhaegar never getting the children to bed on time, allowing them extra dessert after dinner, and how he needed to keep a better eye on the boys while she was feeding the baby. It was almost easier when Aegon hated Jon, now the boys were inseparable and they were constantly getting into things they shouldn’t, and once again they couldn’t take their eyes off them. 

Elia and Rgaegar were both so tired from the new baby, the children, and the move that the dam had finally broken and Elia hurled at Rhaegar every horrible thing she had ever wanted to say to him when he abandoned his family and ran away with Lyanna Stark. 

Rhaegar had apologized thousands of times over the past couple of years, but she couldn’t very well tell him it was ok and move on with her life just because he said he was sorry. She knew he meant every apology and he felt horribly guilty. She told him to apologize to the children and make up for their lost time with him. She made him swear to The Seven he would never leave them again or put them in harm's way like that.

To ensure his family’s safety Rhaegar personally executed every man that stormed the Red Keep when King’s Landing was sacked. When he heard what they had planned on doing to his family he was so enraged that he started brutally beheading them one by one. He wouldn’t dare tell anyone what went on in his mind in that moment but he had even considered breaking out his father’s wildfire, and delighted in the idea of watching them scream and plead as he burned them alive. 

He couldn’t resort to that kind of madness though. That was the very behavior that destroyed the people’s trust in his father and one he vowed to never turn to. So instead each traitor was beheaded, except for Ser Gregor Clegane. He had him tortured for weeks, and then let Oberyn finish him off. It did little to raise Oberyn’s favor of him, his relationship with his good brother was permanently fractured, but Oberyn appreciated the gesture nonetheless. 

Elia on the other hand had softened to Rhaegar over the past few years. At the beginning she would have claimed it was for the sake of the children, but the loss of his mother brought them closer together too. She still doesn’t love him, but every day she is reminded of why they had become such good friends during their marriage. 

Rhaegar is kind even though he can be clueless and stupid at times. He is good, loving, and patient. He makes mistakes, but she’s sure she does too, he would just never point them out. He is also handsome and gentle with her, and apparently still quite attentive to her needs. She is almost certain that continuing to have sex with him will complicate their relationship further, but with the way her body is still tingling right now, she’s willing to risk it to find out. 

“Think she’ll sleep through the night after this?” Rhaegar asks her gesturing to Dany and knowing it is well past the hour of the wolf. 

“No,” Elia says with a sad chuckle and smiles at the baby who she swears gives her a smile back. 


	6. Solutions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive any mistakes, I am hungover.

“Where’s Daenerys?” Rhaegar asks, entering their room through the nursery. 

“Jon has her,” Elia says from her desk and nods to the bed where Jon is sitting, surrounded by pillows and one on his lap where a sleepy Dany lies. 

“Papa!” Jon says with a big smile and looking so proud to be holding the baby. 

“Do you have your Dany?” Rhaegar asks, leaning over to give both his son and little sister a kiss on their heads. 

Even though he had only recently celebrated his first name day, the reality was Dany was safer in Jon’s arms than anywhere else. That was due in large part to Jon always wanting to hold and pick up the baby. No matter how many stern conversations or scolding Elia and Rhaegar had with him nothing they did could keep him away from her. 

If they placed her in her crib he would climb in it, if she did tummy time on the floor, he would lay next to her until their backs were turned then she’d be pulled into his arms. The only place he knew to stay away from was the cradle he almost tumbled over one day trying to get to her. So sometimes it was easier to set up some pillows and let him hold her when they needed to get some work done which is what Elia is doing now as she scribbles away at her desk. 

“Who are you writing to?” Rhaegar asks, coming behind her and placing a kiss on the top of her head. 

“Oberyn,” She says, putting her quill down to a moment and sighing, “I’m writing to him about taking Viserys as his ward.” 

Viserys hadn’t always been a difficult child. He was a happy and plump baby and toddler. He loved his mother, and adored his father and brother - he looked up to the two of them like they could resurrect dragons with the snap of their fingers. And maybe that adoration is where the problems began. Rhaella did her best, but she wasn’t always able to hide Aery’s madness from the impressionable young boy. Viserys was fiercely proud of the Targaryen name and his family's history. Now that he was getting older and dealing with her mother’s loss he rarely listened to anyone else, and as the old saying went, “like their dragons, the Targaryens answered to neither Gods nor men.” 

He had gotten more and more difficult since his mother’s death, which Elia couldn’t entirely fault him for. He was grieving. He lost his father and mother all within the course of a year, but that didn’t completely forgive his behavior. Everything was a demand and justified by him being a Prince, he was rude to servants, commoners, and as of recently too rough with the children. He often claimed that he hated Dany, but he didn’t dare lay a hand on her; before she died Rhaella made him promise to take care of his new sister. 

Sometimes he was good though. He enjoyed the books Elia had made about their families' histories, and as long he wasn’t in one of his dragon moods, Elia and Rhaegar could convince him to read the stories to the children. They found it was important for Viserys to feel like he was being useful. 

However, with four little children and ruling the Seven Kingdoms Elia and Rhaegar won't have the time to give him the attention he will need as he grows older. He won't listen to any maids, Septas, and Maesters, so they agreed finding someone to take him on as their ward would be best. 

Elia and Rhaegar know they can't immediately send him away though. Viserys had just lost his mother and they didn’t want the boy to feel like they were abandoning him too. Elia thought it might be good to send both him and Rhaenys down to her brother in Dorne in a few years. 

While she hated to think of any of her babies leaving her, at some point they would all need to learn the ways of the Kingdoms and leave home. 

“You think Oberyn would be best?” Rhaegar questions, “He’s half-mad himself.” 

“He’s just cunning, and I think he would appreciate the challenge.”

“I don’t want him taking my little brother to brothels,” Rhaegar gruffs.

“Don’t be ridiculous, he won’t do that until he’s older,” she says dropping her quill and turning to him to give him a teasing smile. 

Rhaegar just huffs in return and allows her to continue, “And I think he’ll get along with my niece Airenne, she doesn’t let boys tell her what to do.” 

“I think Viserys will hate that.” 

“I think he’ll like it more than he realizes.” 

“Just promise me no poison,” Rhaegar sighs.

“Uh oh,” Jon says from the bed and they both turn to see Jon looking worried while Daenerys scrunches up her face, fists her hands into little balls, and begins to wail. 

“Mama! Mama!” Jon calls impatiently from the bed. It still makes her heart clench hearing him call her “mama” in his sweet little voice. It’s a habit neither she nor Rhaegar had the heart to break and one he must have picked up from Rhaenys and Aegon since the cries of “mama” are constant through the castle. Plus, she is his mama at this point even if he isn't her by blood. Isn't she? 

“I’m coming sweetling,” Elia says abandoning her letter.

“Mama,” Jon keeps repeating while she makes the short trip over to the bed.

“She’s not going to starve, Jon,” Elia says, taking the baby from his lap and settling next to him on the bed. It only takes a minute to get Dany situated and Jon gives a deep relieved sigh when she stops crying. He then cuddles into Elia's side and she wraps her free arm around him. 

“Never lose your sweetness, Jon,” she says and places a kiss on his curls that are still damp from the bath she gave him earlier. 

“Do you want me to put him in his bed?” Rhaegar asks while he sits down on the foot of the bed.

“No, he’ll just cry if you take him now. He’ll fall asleep before she finishes, this has become our new routine.” 

Rhaegar looks at his son who sure enough is fighting sleep, his droopy little eyes focused on Daenerys while he sucks on his thumb. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've got about four more chapters of all this baby sweetness before I start aging these kids up. I have a lot of plans for where I want this to go, it's just getting there is taking me a while. 
> 
> Drop your thoughts in the comments if you'd like. They've been helping me shape this story, and I love seeing all your messages.


	7. Bedtime stories

Rhaenys knows it is way past her bedtime. 

Her candles have burned down a lot since her father came into her room to kiss her goodnight after he put a sleeping Jon in his crib one room over. 

Her father had tried to blow out the candles for her after tucking her in but she told him she needed them because she didn’t want to fall asleep in the dark. 

_That_ was a lie. 

The darkness never bothered her, but with the candles out Rhaenys wouldn’t be able to read the books she needed that she found in the library with the help of the Maester earlier that day. 

_That_ was her very important mission for tonight. 

“I wish Eggy would just hurry up and learn how to read. He’d like this better than us,” Rhaenys says with a huff, “did you find anything in that one, Balerion?” 

Rhaenys turns to her cat who is curled up, sleeping on the book that she had laid open on her bedroom floor. “Ugh. There has to be something about where we can find dragon eggs! But _this_ _book_ ,” she points to the book at her feet, “says there might be some eggs in some place called Ashy and _that_ book,” she says pointing to another one of the open books across the room from her, “says that’s far away!” He huffs and crosses her arms, “Maybe Vis can help us tomorrow.” 

Balerion gets up from his book to walk around the young girl and seemingly push her towards her bed. Before he can get her there though, Rhaenys hears a wail from the baby and then soon followed by soft cries that she knows are coming from her little brother. 

“Keep the bed warm for me Balerion,” Rhaenys said closing her book and heading out of her bedroom while her cat hops up on the bed. 

“Jon Jon?” Rhaenys says opening the door to Jon’s nursery where she hears the sad little whimpers coming from. 

She has her stuffed dragon in one arm, and her favorite blanket clutched in the other hand. 

Jon is standing up in his crib clutching the bars, while little tears stream down his cheeks and his wild curls all over the place. At night Elia started dressing him in this funny little sleep sack because he was getting too good at escaping from his bed to crawl down the halls to find Daenerys; that and Rhaenys thought it looked pretty cozy. 

Rhaenys closed the door behind her. She can hear Dany crying too, and that’s what probably woke Jon and why her parents didn’t hear him crying, the baby is loud, but she heard both because her room is right next to his. 

Jon catches sight of his sister, and while he probably would have preferred it be his mama walking through the door he reaches his arms out to his sister anyway. 

“Hold on Jon,” Rhaenys says looking around the room until she sees the little ottoman in front of the sofa in his room where their parents or rarely a nursemaid could read him books, or calm him before bed, and decided that would do for what she needed. It takes a bit of work but she pushes it up against Jon’s crib and steps on it. Jon lifts his arms and with all her strength she ungracefully lifts him out of the crib. 

“You’re getting heavy,” she says with a gruff and carries him over to the sofa. She sets him down first then climbs up next to him and pulls him into her lap for a hug. 

“Don’t cry Jon Jon,” Rhaenys says patting his back and hugging him the way she sees her parents soothe the babies. “Did you have a bad dream?” She asks and can feel Jon nod against her. 

“I get bad dreams sometimes too. So does Eggy.” 

“Mama?” Jon says little bottom lip wobbling and a few tears still falling out of the corner of his eyes. 

“Muña is probably feeding the baby. I can get Kepa?” 

“Nonono.” He says rubbing his eyes and leaning his head back on Rhaenys shoulder. 

“You’re sleepy. Come on, let's get in your bed.” Rhaenys stands back up and takes her little brother in her arms before carefully as she can setting him back in his crib. Jon starts to cry again reaching his arms through the bars towards her. 

“I’m coming, I just need to get your wolf.” She says and retrieves it from the couch before stepping back onto the ottoman to climb back into the crib, handing him his stuffed wolf when she gets back in. Jon immediately cuddles it close, rubbing it to his cheek, and sticks his thumb in his mouth. 

“Do you know why I got you that instead of a dragon, Jon Jon?” 

Her little brother looks at her with questioning eyes while sucking on his thumb. 

“Well mama says that you have two mamas, and your other mama was a Stark from the North, and Starks are wolves like Targaryens are dragons. So that’s why Mama and Papa call you little wolf, and I got you that stuffy made,” she tells him while spreading her blanket over the both of them, “that and I saw it in a dream.” 

Jon’s little eyes start to droop while he continues to suck on his thumb and listen to his sister. 

“Mama said she isn’t here anymore though. She went away like Grandmother did, and we’re not allowed to see them again for a long long time.” Rhaenys cuddles a little closer to her brother. “I miss grandmother. You probably miss your mama too if you can remember her. But mama said because they went away that’s how we got you and Dany, so that’s good because I like that you both live here.”

“Dany?” Jon questions. 

“Yes, I know you love baby Dany,” Rhaenys says rolling her eyes. “But you have to love me too because I am your big sister and I loved you before she was even born.” 

Jon pulls his thumb out of his mouth and uses the hand he was sucking on to reach out and pat Rhaenys cheek. 

“Ewwww!” She squeals, turning away from him, “Gross!” 

Jon giggles at his big sister, but it quickly turns into a yawn.

“You need to go to sleep,” Rhaenys says tucking her blanket around him more. “I’ll stay with you so there are no more bad dreams.” 

It doesn’t take long for Jon to drift off and Rhaenys is about to climb out of his crib when the door to Jon’s room opens, and Rhaegar quietly walks in. 

“What are you doing in here?” Rhaegar asks, seeing Rhaeneys standing up in the crib.

“Shhhhhhh!” She says a little too loud holding her finger up to her lips. “I just got him to sleep,” she adds in a dramatic whisper. 

Rhaegar gives her an amused smile and walks over to the crib. Rhaenys lifts her arms for him to pick her up like Jon had done to her earlier that night. He lifts her up, placing her on his hip to hold her. 

“Do you want your blanket?” Rhaegar asks, knowing that one is hers.

“No, Jon Jon can keep it tonight, but I need Meraxes.” 

Rhaegar reaches down to pick up the silvery plush dragon, and confirms Jon is still sleeping, then with his foot pushes the ottoman away from the crib and walks out of the room with Rhaenys and towards hers.

“You can put me down, Kepa,” she tells him, “I’m not a baby.” 

“But you will always be my baby, even when you are grown and marry a high lord and rule his castle, you will still be my baby,” Rhaegar says, kissing her forehead. Rhaenys wrinkles her nose at that but chooses not to say anything else on the matter. 

“What were you talking to your little brother about?” Rhaegar asks tucking Rhaenys in her bed. 

“Jon’s mama.” 

“Oh...” Rhaegar says, heart constricting and eyes stinging, feeling like he was just struck by Robert’s war hammer once again and had the wind knocked out of him. 

Rhaenys is an inquisitive child. When Rhaegar and Elia brought her to Dragonstone a few months ago and she saw her grandmother pregnant with Daenerys she inquired once again how Jon showed up in their lives one morning even though Elia’s stomach never grew big. 

Elia had quickly taken control of the conversation. Rhaegar always admired her cleverness but was still amazed him how well she handled it. 

She asked Rhaenys to tell her what she knew of her namesake and when the little girl explained that Queen Rhaenys was married to her brother Aegon and sister Visneya. Elia explained that kind of like Aegon the Conqueror, Rhaegar once had two wives, and Jon had another mama who carried him in her tummy and that’s why Elia’s didn’t get big. 

“If I’m Rhaenys, and Eggy is Aegon, was Jon supposed to be Visenya?” Rhaenys asked.

“If Jon was a girl his name was going to be Visenya, yes,” Rhaegar responded. 

“You don’t get to choose if it’s a girl, Papa,” Rhaenys said very matter of factly even though she only learned that the day before. “Where's Jon’s other mama then?” Rhaenys asked, having taken the situation pretty well. 

“She can’t be here to take care of him,” Elia said not wanting to discuss death with the little girl quite yet, “so I get to be his mama too.” 

The explanation seems to satisfy Rhaenys for the time being. Only when Rhaella passed away did Elia tell Rhaenys that Jon’s mama had died too. It comforted the little girl knowing wherever they were, her grandmother and Jon’s other mama could be together. Rhaenys was allowed to ask any questions she had. Elia told her it wasn’t a secret they were trying to keep from Jon, and they could tell him about his other mama too. Jon was too little to understand right now, her mother explained, and when he grew older he would have questions too, but for now, it was good to read him the books about the Starks and the North so he would always know and it wouldn’t be a surprise to him one day. 

Elia did her best to answer any questions the little girl had, and Rhaegar usually let her control the conversation. It was still painful for Rhaegar to think about the memory of Lyanna, and how destructive his love for her had been. 

“Kepa?” Rhaenys says, pulling Rhaegar out of his thoughts. 

“Kessa, issa byka dārilaros?” _Yes, my little princess?_

“Did you love Jon’s other mama?” 

“I did,” he says sadly.

“Do you miss her?” 

“I do.” 

“Do you love my mama?” 

“I love your mama very much,” Rhaegar says because it’s true. 

He does love Elia. He always has, he just loved Lyanna differently, he was so enraptured by her wild spirit, attitude, and beauty. She had a strong will and a fighting spirit. He didn’t stop loving Elia just because he loved Lyanna. It was a different kind of love and he was consumed by it, and it led him to do terrible things. But Elia had allowed him back in her life, and the way she loved his son, and now sister made him fall in love with her all over again. It didn’t soften the blow that he had loved Lyanna and now she was gone, but being with Elia made everything easier. He doesn’t tell her often enough that he loves her. Maybe he should start doing that more. 

But _that_ isn’t a conversation for a girl Rhaenys’ age. 

“You certainly have a lot of questions for a little girl who should be asleep.” 

Rhaenys flips on her side cuddling her dragon stuffy close and closes her eyes. “Sȳz bantis kepa,” she murmurs. _Good night father._

  
Rhaegar leans down and places a kiss on her dark hair, “Sȳz bantis issa byka dārilaros.” _Good night my little princess._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never wanted Lyanna to be a bombshell dropped on Jon so we're letting the little guy know about her early on. 
> 
> Also a look into Rhaegar's very complicated mind. If you have questions, so do I. But I am trying to explain them as we go.


	8. The Harvest Moon Festival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday here's some fluff *whispers and a little bit of smut

“Rhaegar!” Elia shouts from her dressing room where she is finishing up her hair and clipping on her final pieces of jewelry, “Daenerys won’t keep her crown on!” 

“Why are you always causing me trouble little one?” Rhaegar asks strolling into the room and looking down at the little girl who is gnawing on her little crown. 

“Our mother would be very upset to see you using the crown jewels as a teething ring, Daenerys. But I bet cold metal feels nice on those teeth,” he says to the baby in High Valyrian and she looks up at him with her bright violet eyes. 

“Why don’t we try this instead?” Rhaegar says and reaches into his pocket to pull out a wood dragon figurine. 

Daenerys’ eyes grow a little larger at the dragon, her favorite thing, and with a soft clang, she drops her crown on the floor and earnestly reaches for the dragon with both hands. 

“Let’s go to the nursery and find you something better to chew on,” Rhaegar says, first picking up the crown and wiping the drool off it, and then picking up his baby sister. 

Rhaegar walks into a familiar scene of Rhaenys ordering around her little brothers while they wait to be called for the event. The children were already dressed, the whole family sporting Targaryen black and red. The girls were both in very pretty red dresses, Dany’s had black dragons embroidered on the skirt, and the boys looked adorable in their matching black pants and shirts with little red capes draped over their left shoulder. 

“Dany!” Jon calls when sees his father entering the room and runs towards them with his arms up. 

Rhaenys huffs and stomps her foot, “Jon! No! You are supposed to be a gold cloak and gold cloaks do as I say.” 

“You playing Queen again Rhaeny?” Rhaegar asks his only daughter while searching around the room for a teething ring for Dany. 

“Yes, Papa, because I have my crown,” she answers. 

It isn't exactly a crown, but a very pretty tiara, suitable for a girl not yet six, and much more elaborate than the simple gold circlets the younger children are wearing

“What about your brothers?” he asks, “They have crowns too.” Rhaegar sets Dany on the floor to occupy Jon who’s tugging on his leg trying to get to his aunt. 

“Papa, I’m not allowed to go anywhere without my gold cloaks so someone needed to be them,” she states quite seriously and Rhaegar is glad she knows the rules so well. “Dany is eating her crown, Kepa,” Rhaenys informs him. 

“Daenerys no,” Rhaegar says sternly but still looking for something else to occupy her sore gums. “Ah!” He exclaims, once locating the little sterling silver rattle, a gift from the Tyrells that was perfect for the baby to gnaw on. “Here you go, little one,” he says, swapping the crown for the metal ring. 

“Are we all ready?” Elia asks, walking into the nursery, “Viserys is waiting in the hall for us,” she adds and picks up Daenerys who immediately reaches for Rhaegar. 

“You want time with your brother today, issa byka zaldrīzes?” Rhaegar asks Dany, taking her from Elia and holding her on his hip. “I’ll take the girls, you take the boys?” Rhaegar asks Elia. 

“That’s fine with me. Come here my little wolf,” Elia says and lifts Jon off the floor and onto her hip. “Enough books for now Aegon, let’s go,” she says and he stands up to take his mother’s free hand while Rhaenys does the same with her father’s. 

The whole royal family is scheduled to attend a festival for the Harvest Moon that evening. 

In the past, the festival had only been a one-night event attended by the common people of King’s Landing with a large part of it taking place in Flea Bottom. Even the poorest of the poor lived like what they believed to be the way of Kings that day - scrummaging together what they could find to look their best that evening and take part in the city's merriment and festivities. 

It wasn’t until this year that Elia marched into Rhaegar’s small council, mid-meeting, and demanded the festival be different. She decided the royal family would not only attend some of the festivities but also and donate fine Dornish wine and the best food from the Reach for their lavish meals so at the very least everyone would have a proper meal that evening. They even, for various games and competitions, threw in a few prizes: fine silks, books, wooden trinkets for children, jewelry, and a few ravens. 

The royal family would attend a quick play, suitable for children, and then stay for a few songs in the Bard’s competition before heading back to the Keep to put the children down for bed. Then, perhaps, Rhaegar and Elia would return to hear the rest of the songs and enjoy some of the festivities. 

Rhaegar had agreed to everything Elia proposed and sent a message to the other Noble Lords they were expected to contribute to festivals in their cities as well. 

Rhaegar wanted so badly to play his harp on stage for all to hear, but it would give away his identity and as much as it drove Ser Barristan mad with how dangerous it was for the King of the Seven Kingdoms to play in flea bottom, it was still a guilty pleasure of his. 

Rhaenys would be playing her harp though. The child was decent at a few very basic songs and after a lot of convincing the otherwise outgoing child, who had gone shy on them when asked to play, agreed she would. 

Once again under Elia’s suggestion, she and Rhaegar decided they would be incorporating Rhaenys’ day to day with the children of King’s Landing. It was for the same reason as attending the festival. 

While forever the royals had been cooped up and raised alongside one another in their stuffy castles and Keeps, they were the ones who always turned on each other. Not once during Robert's Rebellion had the common people sided against Rhaegar and his family. Even the damn Starks whose daughter Rhaegar had loved had taken actions to not only usurp the throne from him but also murder him and his family. 

It was time they started giving greater notice and appreciation to the people of King's Landing, and common people in all Seven Kingdoms. So Elia decided the annual festival would now be devoted to the common people, and the royal children would learn and play alongside theirs. 

The events of the evening go by without a hitch. Somehow all four rambunctious children and Viserys are entranced by every play and song, and Rhaenys performs beautifully when it’s her time to take the stage. By the end of the evening, however, the little ones are worn out by all of the excitement and Elia has two little boys fast asleep in her lap. She looks over at Rhaegar to confirm Dany is snoozing on his chest, little cheeks flushed pink with sleep and thumb slack in her mouth. 

“Rhaegar,” Elia calls quietly, doing her best to not wake their sleeping dragons. 

He looks over at her with a kind smile, hand moving up and down Dany’s back. 

“I think it’s well past time we get the boys in bed, and I have to get that one,” she says nodding at Dany, “fed one last time so she can sleep through the night.” 

“I suppose you’re right. Let me help you,” He says standing up and in a well-practiced move lifts Aegon out of her arms without disturbing any of the three children. 

Elia gets up, being careful to hold Jon’s head against her shoulder, and calls for Rhaenys who has gathered with a group of children from a Flea Bottom orphanage that are sitting nearby. 

“Oh Muña, Kepa, please can I stay?” She begs. “Look at all of my new friends, and I always get to go to bed after the babies. Please! Please! Please!” 

“I would be happy to stay with the princess and escort her back, Your Graces,” comes the voice of Ser Barristan who has seemed to master the difficult task of keeping the royal children out of harm's way.

Elia looks at Rhaegar and she knows he’s going to agree. Rhaenys has him so tightly wrapped around her finger and he hardly ever can say no to her if it means spoiling her fun. 

“One hour, issa dōna riña,” he allows her, “and when Ser Barristan says it’s time to go you do not complain or argue.” 

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” She shouts far too loud around her sleeping siblings and gives each parent a quick hug before returning to her new friends.

“Thank you Barristan,” Elia says sincerely, and the old knight gives her a nod and kind smile before he turns his attention back to Rhaenys. “Would you like to stay too, Viserys?” Elia asks her good brother who’s standing quietly next to Rhaegar. 

“No,” he says softly, “I think I’d like to go home.” 

Viserys had been so good the whole evening; singing along to some of the more common songs chatting with the children his age from the orphanage, and even allowing Daenerys to sit on his lap during part of the play when she decided she had had enough of Elia, Rhaegar, and Rhaenys. Elia watched him whisper to the baby explaining to her what was happening in the show and holding Daenerys’ little hands in his, teaching her how to clap after a performance. He was doing so well and it was one of the rare times Elia saw him smile, but one of the songs played by the most recent bards was a more melancholic piece about a beautiful and kind Queen, and Viserys must have understood it was about his mother. Even since that he grew quiet, his smile faded and he did look more than ready for bed. 

Elia lays a comforting hand on his shoulder and to her relief, he doesn’t shrug it off as they walk away from the stage. 

The carriage ride back to the Red Keep is quick with the streets empty and attention focused on the celebrations. 

Rhaegar asks Viserys if he would like to help get the boys in bed, but he declines and bids them goodnight as soon as they enter the Keep. 

Rhaegar is pretty proud of himself for getting the two boys changed and in their cribs with no tears. Jon woke only for a moment and was pretty grumpy that his sleep was disturbed but quickly drifted off once he was in his soft sleeping clothes. 

He finds Elia exactly where he thought she'd be, in the nursery, rocking, and nursing Dany. “She do alright for you?” Rhaegar asks, approaching Elia. 

“She is completely worn out,” Elia says with a kind smile like always. “Didn’t even really wake, she’s just dream feeding now.” 

And sure enough Rhaegar studies his little sister to see lazily suckling, and little eyelids fluttering as she simultaneously feeds and dreams. 

“I was thinking,” Rhaegar says carefully, “since all of the children are taken care of, and this one will hopefully sleep through the night, maybe you and I could go back to the festival and listen to the rest of the Bard’s songs? We could even try the market food the people were selling and perhaps play a game or two?” He’s nervous and fidgety, though not entirely sure why considering he’s been married to the woman for over six years. 

“That sounds lovely,” Elia tells him. “Let me get her in bed and we can go back. Are you going to put on your disguise for me?” She asks teasingly. 

“Yes,” Rhaegar says with a smile and leans in to press a soft kiss to her lips, an action common between husband and wife but still unfamiliar for the two of them. “And I might have one for you as well,” he whispers against her lips and kisses her again. It makes Elia smile, as he saunters out of the nursery and readies their accommodations. 

Daenerys feeds a little longer and Elia blissfully gets her tucked into her crib without waking her. “Good night my little dragon,” she whispers, pushing some silver curls out of her face. Elia then checks on the boys and gives them each a quick kiss on their heads as well and wishes them a good night's sleep. 

She runs into Rhaenys and Ser Barristan in the hall on her way back to her shared room with Rhaegar and her sweet little girl wraps her arms around Elia’s legs giving her a quick hug and thanking her again for letting her stay at the festival a while longer and with rapid speed regaling her mother with stories from the past hour before bidding her good night. Elia wishes her maids luck, they have their work cut out for them getting her excited daughter to bed. 

When Elia gets back into her bedroom chamber, Rhaegar is seated at her looking glass straightening his wig to cover his silver curls. “I’ve had the maids lay some clothes for you on the bed,” Rhaegar tells her when he catches her reflection in the mirror. 

“Thank you,” Elia responds smiling at the simple dress and scarf laid out for her. Even with her back turned she can feel his gaze heavy on her while she changes, and wonders what’s gotten over him. 

A few minutes later Elia is dressed in a plain gray dress with a scarf loosely wrapped around her head, just in case, she wants to cover a little of her face. Rhaegar looks just as common with the dark black curly wig on his head; a stark contrast compared to his usual silver locks. 

“You look like Jon,” Elia says tugging at one of his spirals watching it bounce back into place when she lets go. There’s nothing he can do to hide the indigo eyes, but he does this often enough that she assumes it isn’t an issue. 

“Shall we, my lady?” Rhaegar asks with a goofy smile taking Elia’s hand. 

They exit through the secret tunnels buried all throughout the Red Keep, Arthur Dayne a short distance behind them at all times, also in an everyday disguise. Ser Barristan was given the night off as a thank you for his extra time spent with Rhaenys. 

The freedom of being able to walk around unnoticed and unbothered is a luxury Elia didn’t know she was missing out on until that night. For a few hours, Rhaegar and Elia listen to the music performed at the festival, eat street food from the little markets, and even partake in some of the festival’s games; it is a good thing the King is not allowed to gambol because why Rhaegar tries his hand at it, they find out he is horrible, but they have fun and laugh about it nonetheless. 

It is enjoyable and freeing. They speak to the people of Flea Bottom who are all just pleased to be partaking in the event expressing to them that it’s the best day of the year and how they save up for many moons to be able to enjoy it. A few express their gratitude towards Queen Elia’s generosity. It doesn’t bother Rhaegar that almost no one expresses their admiration for him. It was his wife’s idea and the point of this day is to make it about the common people, not their rulers. 

“Thank you,” Elia tells him as they walk hand in hand back towards the secret tunnels of the Red Keep. “It was nice to have an evening without having to worry about the children and weight of the Kingdom.” The last part is said with a shy smile, and now Elia isn’t sure what’s gotten over her. Maybe it is the wine and the merriment of the night, but something aches deep inside her when Rhaegar returns her smile with his own. 

“Thank you for standing by me after I made such a mess of things.” He tells her thinking how the night was meant to honor the commoners for not turning against him - he could thank his wife for doing the very same. “And for loving Jon and Daenerys as your own. You didn’t have to. I know most high born ladies don’t even feed their own babes themselves, nor spend so much time loving, caring, and mothering them.” 

“They make it very easy to love,” she tells him, and Rhaegar squeezes her hand in agreement. 

When they are safely back in their chamber Elia starts to undress, exhausted by the long night and knowing Daenerys will likely wake her early in the morning to be fed. When she reaches for the laces of her gown, however, Rhaegar stops her, clutching her wrist and first holding her hand up to his mouth so he can slowly kiss her knuckles, the palm of her hand, the inside of her wrist, and then letting it drop to her side as he takes it upon himself to unlace her dress. 

His movements are slow and gentle, taking every chance he gets to brush her exposed skin with his fingertips and knuckles. He cups her breasts once they’re freed from the gown and gives each of them a firm squeeze making her moan. She looks down and is embarrassed to see a trickle of milk leaking from her but the embarrassment vanishes when Rhaegar gives her a fiery look and quickly takes one nipple, then the other in his mouth, lapping at her leaking milk and to her surprise giving each a few quick pulls. All the while his hands are tugging her dress down over her hips taking her small clothes with it. 

Rhaegar releases her breast and stands up tall so he’s towering over her as Elia steps out of her dress. 

“I don’t tell you often enough how much I appreciate you,” Rhaegar whispers to her, his hand coming up to trace the side of her face. 

“Is that what you’re going to do now?” she asks, while Rhaegar’s other hand finds the small of her back and pulls her close to him. “Tell me how much you appreciate me?” 

Leaning down so his lips were just barely brushing hers, Rhaegar whispers back, “I thought I might show you instead.” 

Rhaegar doesn’t give her time to respond, capturing her lips with his and using the hand on the small of her back to pull her even closer to him so she’s pressed tightly against him. 

Her breast is in his hand again and she’s moaning into his mouth as he kisses her and walks her back towards their bed. He doesn’t break from her until her back is pressed down against the soft feather mattress, and then he only leaves her for a second to shuck his tunic off before he’s on top of her again. Kissing her lips, then her cheek, then down along her neck and her collar bone. 

They have had sex a few more times since the night of their fight, but this time is different. Those times had been quick and frantic, often when they were upset with each other or frustrated with someone else after a long and tiring day. 

Now, he was taking his time with her. It reminds Elia of their wedding night, he had been so kind and gentle with her like he’s being now as he kisses down her throat and all across her chest. He takes her breast in his mouth again and latches onto her nipple. Swilling his tongue around it. She can’t help the moan that escapes her and presses her body against his. 

One of Rhaegar’s hands moves to pinch her other nipple, and the other hand slowly traces its way down her body until it finds its way between her legs and she willingly opens them for him. She gaps when he touches her where she needs him and pushes her hips up into his hand. She can feel him smile against her skin as he releases her breast and travels down her body. 

Elia pushes herself up on her elbows when Rhaegar makes his way down her body to watch him. Rhaegar takes hold of both of her thighs and pushes them open for him. He kisses down the inside of her thighs before giving her a devilish smile and latches onto her. Elia gasps and collapses back onto the bed, her arms not strong enough to hold her up as blinding pleasure takes over her. 

She moans and grabs a fist full of his silver locks for something to hold onto. She can’t help but rock her hips against him, needing more, and knowing exactly what she needs he slips two fingers into her. She cries out his name as she comes, and he helps her through it, with soft kisses and licks as she falls from her high. 

Elia is breathing hard and doesn’t register Rhaegar leaving the bed for a moment to step out of his trousers until he’s on top of her again and she feels him without a stitch of clothing against her. 

When she opens her eyes he’s smiling at her, and with gentle fingertips strokes back some strands of hair that are stuck to her sweaty skin. 

Rhaegar leans down to kiss her. This time it’s a little more urgent and she can feel his need for her as he rocks his hips against her. With the shift in movement, he’s nudging against her entrance so she lifts one foot so it is resting in the small of his back and wraps her leg around his waist, opening up for him. Rhaegar breaks the kiss to give her a questioning look. Elia nods back and it’s all the confirmation Rhaegar needs to sink into her with one agonizingly slow thrust. 

His pace is firm and gentle. He pulls her leg higher up on his back and he hits a spot a little deeper that makes her cry out. 

“I love you,” she thinks he says but she must just be delirious from her building orgasm. “You don’t have to say it back but I need you to know that I love you.” 

_ That isn’t fair. _

Everything feels so good right now that she could be tricked into thinking that she loves him too. How does she even know he means it? People say all sorts of things and make all kinds of promises when they’re happy and feel good. 

She chooses to ignore it, for now, he said she doesn’t have to say it back and he doesn’t look deterred by the battle going on in her mind that must be prevalent in her face. All Elia can do is whine in response as his thrusts grow a little more firm. 

It doesn’t take much longer for her to fall over the edge for the second time, and then Rhaegar pulls out and with a few more strokes of his hand, he finishes on her stomach and then collapses to her side. 

Elia only plans to close her eyes for a second as she catches her breath but exhaustion from a combination of the wine, food, late-night, and post-coital bliss takes over her and she drifts off almost immediately, only barely registers Rhaegar wiping her stomach clean with a damp cloth. 

When she wakes up, hours later, the sun is already up, and she’s pressed against Rhaegar, both of them facing each other, her head tucked under his chin, with his arm around her middle and their legs tangled together. 

As she wakes she starts to register his hand that is slowly moving up and down her back. She kisses his chest to let him know that he’s awake too. Rhaegar ducks his head to capture her lips. 

“Good morning,” he mumbles against her lips.

She smiles, feeling him hard and ready against her stomach. She untangles one of her legs from his to sling it over his hip, thinking perhaps if the children haven’t woken them yet they might have a little more time this morning. “Morning,” she mumbles back in her own groggy voice. 

The arms around her waist pulls her closer, and Elia is just about to push Rhaegar onto his back to straddle him when a sweet little voice causes her to push him away with so much force it almost knocks the wind out of him. 

“Mama?” Elia hears Jon say. 

She shoves Rhaegar away from her, making him gasp as she pushes on his sensitive ribs.

“How did you get in here, little wolf?” Elia asks, a little breathless herself from Rhaegar’s hungry kisses, as she clutches the sheets to her chest. 

“Mama!” Aegon calls popping up next to Jon at the side of the bed. The two boys could be mistaken for fraternal twins at that moment with their marching sleeping clothes, bed swept hair, and rosy cheeks. 

Rhaegar leans over the bed to grab a pair of trousers and shimmies them on underneath the bedsheets. 

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Rhaenys announces walking into their room with Daenerys in her arms. 

“Did you get your brothers and aunt out of their cribs?” Elia asks.

“Yeah!” Rhaenys responds with a little smile. “I even got Jon’s sleepy sack off.” 

“Why did you do that?” Rhaegar asks the little girl as he helps the boys climb onto the bed. 

“Cause he couldn’t walk in it, Kepa!” 

“That is the point of it, Rhaenys,” Elia sighs and takes Dany from her arms. 

The baby pats the top of her breast and Elia realizes it’s silly to hide herself from the children. The boys would not care nor remember and Rhaenys watched her feed the babies for over two and a half years at this point. Being exposed tangled up with Rhaegar was different, but she’s fed all of her children at her breast so she lets the sheets pool at her waist and Dany loses no time tucking in. No one else in the room seems to even notice. 

“I told the maids we are going to break our fast in your room so we should have food here soon,” Rhaenys says climbing on the bed and plopping down between her mother and father. The boys are fighting over who gets to cuddle next to Elia on her free side so Rhaenys hauls Jon into her lap. 

“Did you age ten years overnight?” Rhaegar asks his daughter who as of recently has been ruling their castle as if she were the queen. 

“A lot of my new friends last night don’t have a mama or a papa,” Rhaenys says, “they don’t even have two mamas like Jon, or a brother and a good sister like Vis and Dany. So I thought since I do, we should do more fun things, like have a picnic in bed! I asked Visy to join us but he didn’t want to come. And then maybe later we can bring my friends some new clothes and toys.” 

“I think that is a very good idea darling,” Rhaegar says and cuddles Rhaenys into his side. 

Before the maids get there with food Rhaegar helps Elia into a robe that she’s better able to cover herself with and then leaves the room only for a moment to return with Viserys, who Rhaegar has to drag in. He’s grumpy for no longer than a minute after Rhaegar plops him on the bed and orders his children to attack their uncle with hugs and tickles. Viserys breaks into a rare smile as he fights off his niece and nephews. After that, he is chatty during breakfast and no longer in a bad mood. 

Elia looks over to Rhaegar who is spoon-feeding Rhaenys her breakfast because she won’t stop talking long enough to feed herself, while simultaneously trying to keep Aegon’s sticky fingers off Jon’s face. Then she looks down to the baby still nursing at her chest. This family could have been so broken and fractured, but they’re all here together, safe and loved. She thinks back to Rhaegar’s confession the night before and thinks maybe she can love him too. 


	9. Baby steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This does little to project the story forward and is just straight fluff

“Ya ya ya ya ya” 

“Mama” 

“Yaya”

“Mama” 

“Yaya!” Daenerys yells, throwing her arms around Elia’s neck and placing her very slobbery open mouth on Elia’s cheek in what the baby thought was a kiss.

Elia and Rhaegar were trying to encourage Daenerys to talk. She certainly made enough little noises and repeated single syllables. All their other children started out with simple words like “mama” and “papa” but somehow Dany seemed to know that Rhaegar and Elia weren’t her parents, and instead insisted on calling them “Yaya” and “Ra.”

It wasn’t a secret they were keeping from her, just like Lyanna hadn't been a secret they kept from Jon. They were both told stories about their mothers and show their portraits. Rhaegar even told Dany some of the few good stories about Aerys. 

Jon still didn’t quite understand who Mama Lyanna was. It was hard for Rhaegar to talk about her, and Elia didn’t really know much about her, but it was never a secret. So when he started calling Elia “mama” she took it in stride and had planned on doing the same with Daenerys but the clever little girl seemed to have other plans. 

Elia giggles and gives the baby a hug before placing her on the floor so she can roam around, Daenerys just started to crawl and loved being mobile. 

“Can you stay out of trouble while I get ready for the day?” She asks Dany who gives her an innocent little smile and crawls towards the basket of baby toys Rhaegar and Elia kept in their room. Elia knows one of Daenerys’ favorite plush dragons is over there which should be enough to keep her entertained while Elia finishes up some letters before talking Daenerys down for the day. 

Elia reads through some letters and scrolls, responding when necessary and appropriate, while intermittently checking on Daenerys who stays by her toys. Just as she finishes up Elia stands to get Daenerys and the toddler is gone. 

“Typical,” she sighs to herself. “Dany? Let’s go little one.” 

“Yaya,” Dany says from across the room. Elia gasps when she sees the toddler and runs across the room to grab her. 

Daenerys has herself onto her feet and is holding tight onto the metal grate in front of the fireplace that is there to prevent her from crawling in but with the large fire burning behind Elia knows the metal is more than hot enough to burn the toddlers' hands. 

“Daenerys no!” Elia scolds lifting Daenerys from under her arms and onto her hip. Dany isn’t crying though, and when Elia looks at her hands they are perfectly untouched. Elia studies them for a moment longer then touches the grate quickly to confirm it is scorching hot. 

“How did you do that?” Elia asks Dany who looks back at her equally as confused, probably wondering why she is getting fussed over. Dany just points at the plush dragon she abandoned on the floor. Elia bends down and hands it to her, and brings Daenerys down to the Main Hall to begin their day. 

**___________________________________**

“Like this Dany,” Elia hears Jon’s sweet little voice as she enters the children’s nursery. She walks into a familiar scene, Aegon in the corner with his books, Rhaenys scribbling some pictures on the floor, and Jon giving his full attention to little Daenerys who's practicing her new trick, and has pulled herself onto her feet and is gripping onto the cushiony seat of one of the chairs in the room. Jon slowly picks up one foot and then the other and slowly moves his way towards her trying to demonstrate how to walk. 

Dany watches him with her wide violet eyes but makes no attempt to move. 

“Watch this Jon Jon,” Rhaenys says, hopping up from her spot on the floor and abandoning her coloring, “Mama does this with Dany.” Rhaenys then picks Dany up from under her arms and turns her around and places her back on her feet and holds her hands. 

“Ok Dany, walk to Jon,” Rhaenys says and takes a step forward. Dany mimickes her on wobbly feet but is supported upright by Rhaenys’ grip. 

Once she realizes she isn’t going to fall, Dany is more confident in her steps and soon she’s letting go of Rhaenys hands and crashing into Jon’s open arms. 

Jon and Dany both giggle while he holds her upright in his arms until Dany turns around wanting to go back to Rhaenys so she can walk more.

“I try?” Jon asks, looking at his big sister for approval. 

“You have to hold her hands, she can’t do it herself,” Rhaenys explains. 

Jon does as Rhaenys says, but being a clumsy toddler himself, the two only make it about three steps towards Rhaenys when Jon trips and tumbles down right on top of Daenerys.

“Oh dear,” Elia says and moves from her spot on the doorway to scoop up her two youngest. 

“It’s alright sweetlings,” Elia says to the children. Jon’s little lip is wobbling but Dany who is used to tumbling at this point from all of her failed attempts to stand and walk looks unbothered for the most part, but she does let out a frustrated little huff as she sits on one side of Elia’s lap with Jon on the other. 

“It’s ok Jon,” Elia says, rubbing his back, while Jon rubs his eyes to fight back tears, “Dany isn’t hurt, you don’t have to be sad.” 

Dany reaches out her little hand to pat Jon’s back and then holds out her arms so Rhaenys can pick her back up. 

Rhaenys happily takes her and Elia keeps Jon in her lap for a moment, giving him a hug and quick kiss to his head.

“Let’s do this,” Elia says, still sitting on the floor with Jon in her lap. “Rhaeny, you take just a few steps back and hold Daenerys but see if she’ll walk towards me and Jon without holding onto your hands.” 

Rhaenys being the good listener she is moves only inches from Jon and Elia and sets Dany back on her feet. 

“Come walk to us Dany,” Elia says, holding out her arms and Jon’s. Rhaenys holds onto Dany for the first step then let’s go. The one-year-old takes one step, then two, then a few more before she starts to fall forward, but Elia and Jon catch her, all of them giggling the whole while. 

“Did she just walk?” Every head in the room snaps to the nursery’s entrance where Rhaegar is looking in.

“Ra!” Dany chirps and holds her arms up and to him.

“Did she just walk?” Rhaegar asks his little sister with a big smile and slips into the baby voice he often uses with the little children. 

Rhaegar picks up the youngest Targaryen and tosses her in the air, causing the whole room to fill with Dany’s deep belly laugh. “Did you just walk? You are growing up too quickly, issa byka zaldrīzes!” He tells her before placing kisses all over her face and neck that only increases her giggles.

“Up! Up!” Rhaegar hears and looks down to see Jon clinging to his leg demanding the same attention. He passes Dany back to Elia and tosses Jon in the air a few times, filling the nursery with the sound of new laughter. 

“Me too! Me too!” Comes a second cry. Aegon has left his books and is waiting for a turn. 

“I want to go next, Kepa!” Rhaenys calls. 

Rhaegar gives a nervous chuckle and looks over at Elia, who with Jon, is encouraging Dany to walk again. 

“Don’t look at me like that, dear husband. You got yourself into this,” she says with a chuckle. 

She does get roped into it though, because after being tossed in the air, Rhaenys has the great idea to play “dragons” as a family. She is helpful though, claiming she’s strong enough to help baby Dany “fly”, and the rest of the evening is filled with loud laughs from the room as the Targaryen’s pretend to fly on top of Dragons from Valeryia to Westeros, as the ancestors did hundreds of years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well everyone I am out of baby moments, so I think it is time we age these kids up and move this story along. There's still quite a bit left (and the long-awaited chat about Lyanna, I'm just waiting for it to fall in the right place) so I hope you all continue to enjoy. 
> 
> Thank you for your comments and kudos!


	10. Under the Dornish Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things do get a little serious and spicy here, so I am updating the tags, please be warned.

“Uncle Oberyn?” Oberyn hears and looks down to find the little boy with wide gray eyes staring up at him. “Can you play swords with me?” 

Elia had written to Oberyn quite often over the past five years since she left Dorne to return to King’s Landing with her husband after his disastrous war. Her ravens always included updates on the children, even Jon and Dany who Oberyn couldn’t understand why she had accepted into her life as if they were her own. Without fail as soon as Jon started talking, every letter included a passage about his “sweet little voice.” Oberyn didn’t know why she thought he cared. But listening to the little northern boy right now, he hates to admit it, but it is quite cute. 

“I’m not your uncle,” Oberyn grumbles, “and you do not _play_ swords, these are not toys, Jon.” 

Jon’s little brow furrows as he studies Oberyn, “But Rhaenys and Eggy call you uncle. And mama says you're her brother!” 

Oberyn pinches the bridge of his nose, “She’s not really your, uh, nevermind, this is a conversation for that father of yours,” Oberyn says with a slight scowl. “What was it you wanted again?” 

“Swords!” Job yells, pointing at the little sparring swords in the training field next to them. 

“Wouldn’t you rather spar with your brother or sister?”

“They’re doing their bow and arrow,” Jon says looking disappointed across the field where his siblings are practicing their aim. Oberyn knows Jon was quite gifted with a bow and arrow as well, but his true passion lies in swords. 

_Gods I have to stop paying so much attention to those letters,_ Oberyn thinks. 

“Perhaps one of my daughters would be better suited for you?” Oberyn asks the little boy, not really in the mood to play with the children. 

“No!” Jon says, stamping his foot. “I want to play swords with you! Mama says you’re really good!” Jon says throwing his arms up in the air, exasperated he has to explain himself. 

“Ok fine,” he says trying to calm the young boy down, “we can spar. Don’t get yourself in a tizzy.”

Jon looks far too proud of himself as he turns around to fetch the sparring swords and padded armor. 

“You won’t be needing that,” Oberyn says when Jon holds the pads up to him to assist in putting them on. 

Jon wrinkles his little brow, “Mama says we have to wear it.”

“Well my dear sister is not here now is she?” Oberyn questions the boy who looks extremely disappointed in him. “It will slow you down,” Oberyn says, “don’t you want to be quick when fighting so no one can hit you?”

“But what if I get hurt?” Jon questions. 

“Then you’ll have to move faster, so you don’t get hit, won’t you?”

Jon sighs but seems to agree. And picks up his sword. 

“You never know who your enemy might be,” Oberyn states, eyes falling on the training spears that lie in a heap by the swords. One of them is his daughter’s, the “spear” at the end is no sharper than a spoon and perfectly acceptable for Jon. “And they might not always be fighting with a sword.” 

Oberyn doesn’t go easy on the young boy. A few times he wacks Jon on the arm or leg, but never hard enough to hurt him, just enough that he won’t want to be hit again. 

Jon is relentless though. The pain of being smacked by Oberyn’s spear does not deter him. A few times his eyes get a little misty like he might start to cry, Oberyn doesn’t think it’s from the pain, but more from the frustration of not doing as well as he wants. 

“You really are a true northerner,” Oberyn signs while avoiding yet another swing from Jon.” “Far too heavy on your feet and predictable.”

“Then teach me!” Jon shouts, only nearly missing Oberyn that time with the strike of his sword. 

“That was good,” Oberyn says. “You caught me off guard. Do that again. And light on your feet Jon. You must be fast, that way they can’t get you.” 

Oberyn is impressed once he starts giving Jon instructions. He is a quick learner and takes every critique to heart, not forgetting a previous one after he’s given several more. 

The little northern boy is panting the more they go on - not used to the Dornish heat and getting a serious workout. Oberyn is beginning to tire as well. The longer they go on the better Jon gets and the more he has to focus to avoid Jon’s swings. 

He’s about ready to call it for the day when the voice of his sister calls for him, in a tone that he knows means he’s about to get scolded. 

“Seven Hells Oberyn! Are you trying to kill my son?” Elia shouts. 

Oberyn quickly uses his practice spear to knock Jon’s sword out of his hands, so he can turn around and explain himself to his sister. But while doing so he forgets the most important and first rule he told Jon. 

While Oberyn is turned around, Jon realizes it’s the perfect opportunity to catch him off guard. Knowing his training sword is heavy and he’s getting tired from the long day, Jon picks it up with a little too much zeal, and the sword collides hard between Oberyn’s legs. 

Elia’s name is lost on Oberyn’s lips and he immediately clutches himself and falls to his knees as all the air leaves him and he only sees black.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He hears Jon frantically repeat. “I didn’t mean to Mama I promise! I was just going to pick up my sword and hit him in the back. Not even hard I promise!” 

Oberyn’s head is spinning and he feels like he might throw up from the screaming pain in his groin. 

“Jon,” Elia says calmly, Oberyn can feel she’s close, possibly kneeling in front of him, but he can’t see because his eyes are closed. Or is he just blinded by the pain? “Why don’t you go find your father?” Jon must have been ready to argue because Elia cuts him off before the young boy can respond. “You aren’t in trouble, I know it was an accident. Your father is looking for you. I will take care of Uncle Oberyn.” 

“Sorry uncle,” Oberyn hears Jon say one more time before presumably scurrying off. Elia is definitely kneeling by him now because he can feel her hand resting on his shoulder, “are you going to be alright?” she asks. 

“Yeah.” Oberyn is able to croak out after a few stabling breaths. 

After a few more minutes, possibly longer, Oberyn opens his eyes upon deciding he’s no longer at risk of passing out. 

“I like that little wolf of yours, Elia,” Oberyn says trying to force a smile and that turns into a grimace as he tries to stand. 

“He almost gelded you and you like him?” Elia says with a chuckle. 

“He did exactly as I told him, strike your opponent when they are taken off guard.”

“Well, I like him too which is why I would prefer you not spar with him without his padding on.” She says sternly but still offers him her hand for support. “I don’t want my children getting hurt.” 

Elia offers him her arm which he gladly accepts, she gets him to stand, even though he stays hunched for a few moments longer. “He’s quite gifted with a sword,” Oberyn tells her. 

“I suppose he takes after his father in that regard.” 

“Yes,” Oberyn says, wrinkling his nose. He still holds a grudge against Rhaegar for abandoning Elia the way he did, and putting her and the children’s life at risk, “Jon does know you are not actually his mother, right?” 

“I am his mother in every way that matters,” Elia shoots back. 

“Elia,” Oberyn says sternly. 

She sighs, “Jon knows he has a northern mother called Lyanna, but she isn’t here anymore. He knows that she’s with his grandmother and while I hope Aerys is burning in all Seven Hells, for the sake of the children he knows that Daenerys’s father is with them too. He’s never shown much interest in it. Rhaenys is the one with all of the questions and sometimes asks about Jon’s ‘mama Lyanna’. We never intend to hide it from him. It will be easier this way once he can understand.” 

“I just don’t want you getting hurt, dear sister.” 

They make their slow approach to the Water Gardens where they find all four children as well as Viserys and Arianne. Rhaegar is down on one knee listening to Daenerys who is deep in conversation with him. Viserys, Rhaenys, Arianne, Aegon, and Jon are all huddled behind them and Elia has no doubt that Daenerys is trying to convince her brother of something the other children put her up to. 

It is amusing to Elia honestly. She can’t imagine ever having to choose any of her children over the other. She loves all of her children equally, including Jon and Dany, and it isn’t that Rhaegar loves her more than the others, but Daenerys is his clear favorite. There isn’t a thing on earth he’d say no to her. Rhaenys has him nearly as tightly wound around her finger, but being their oldest Rhaegar sets boundaries with her. Daenerys on the other hand, if she asked him for the moon Rhaegar wouldn’t sleep until he figured out a way to get it to her. 

Surprising to none it seems Daenerys gets whatever she wants because once Rhaegar sighs in agreement she jumps into his arms giving him a quick hug then runs back to the other children, sharing the good news with them. She takes Jon’s hand in hers, like always, and then the children run to one of the larger pools in the water gardens. 

“He looks just like Ned,” Elia hears from a vacant voice next to her. 

Elia turns around to see a familiar face. “Ashara!” She exclaims, and in what might not be the most queenly manner embraces her old friend in a tight hug. 

Elia pulls away to study her. The years have been kind to her friend in the five they have been separated. She looks almost entirely the same; young and beautiful with dark hair tumbling down her shoulders. The only thing that is slightly different about her friend is her violet eyes that used to be so beautifully haunting, now look quite haunted. 

Elia and Ashara had been friends since they were babes in Dorne. Ashara followed Elia to King’s Landing to be one of her ladies-in-waiting after she married Rhaegar. She had even been seated next to Elia holding her hand at the Tourney at Harrenhal when all Seven Hells broke loose. 

The year of the false spring had been significant for Ashara as well. As two second-born children who were neither betrothed to someone nor expected to do more with their lives than become Lord and Lady of a castle and shire a few heirs, Ashara Dayne and Ned Stark were free to fall in love with whomever their hearts chose. And that is exactly what happened after Brandon Stark approached Ashara about dancing with his shy brother at Harrenhal. They were young and reckless and in love, and that would have been completely harmless had Aerys Targaryen not held true to his title of “The Mad King” and murdered Richard and Brandon Stark. Suddenly Ned went from a young man free to love whomever his heart pleased, to a young Lord of Winterfell and found himself marrying his dead brother’s betrothed, Catelyn Tully. 

No one, apart from Elia, knew at that around the same time Ashara had fallen pregnant. She traveled back to Dorne with Elia and the children, hiding the pregnancy the whole while, but in a devastating loss, she miscarried not long after they arrived back at their home. The war had been raging on at that point and rumors constantly swirled around the palace that both Rhaegar, and Ashara’s brother, Arthur, were dead. The rumors about Arthur were that he was killed by no one other than Ashara’s crossed lover, Eddard Stark. 

Elia tried to help her friend cope with her demons but one day it all became too much and Ashara climbed the Palestone Sword Tower with every intention of throwing herself from it. Luckily her younger sister, Allyria, had followed Ashara to the top of the tower and quite literally talked her off the ledge. 

After that, her family wouldn’t let her out of their sight. 

Elia saw her soon after the incident, but then a few days later Rhaegar turned up with Jon who required her attention. Luckily Arthur Dayne returned with Rhaegar unharmed as well, but when it was time for him to return to King’s Landing with the royal family Ashara’s parents forbade her to go with them - wanting her to rest and recover in Dorne. Elia was sad to leave without her friend. 

“It is good to see you, Your Grace,” Ashara says, giving Elia a quick curtsey. 

Elia waves her up, “Please Ashara, forget the formalities, we are friends. Has Arthur had a chance to see you since we arrived?”

“I will leave you two,” Oberyn says, squeezing Elia’s shoulder and does his best to walk, but fails and hobbles away from them. 

“Yes,” Ashara says answering Elia’s previous question, “Arthur was able to sup with my siblings and me last night after you all arrived.”

“That’s wonderful. I am sorry we have kept him from you for so long.” 

“No need to apologize, I understand how important and demanding his place is.” 

“Would you mind sitting over there in the shade with me?” Elia asks, gesturing to a shaded spot by the pools, “I think my husband is going to need some help watching the children.” 

Elia first brings her to introduce her to the children. They are polite and give her their best curtseys and bows for all of three seconds before returning to their play. Rhaegar is delighted to see his best friend’s sister and greets Ashara with a kiss on the cheek and kind words. 

Elia and Ashara walk over to a bench shaded by the Water Garden’s blood orange trees. There are also cushions, blankets, and towels set out nearby in anticipation of someone using the pools or lounging nearby. Elia and Ashara opt for the bench while continuing their conversation. 

“I dreamed my little girl would have looked just like him if she had lived,” Ashara says in a whisper, her eyes never leaving Jon as he plays in the pool with the other children. “Have you seen Ned since Rhaegar returned here with the little boy?” 

“No, we have not yet given Jon the opportunity to travel north. I can’t imagine the Starks think too kindly of Rhaegar after what Aerys did to his father and brother,” Elia responds. 

The women watch the children play a little longer but soon a little teary-eyed Jon is running towards them in the shade. 

“Mama,” he wines, and the title seems to take Ashara by surprise, but she doesn’t comment, “Rhaenys splashed me!” He cries letting out frustrated tears. 

Elia knows Jon isn’t actually sad or upset about being splashed. Her sweet little boy is exhausted from the trip to Dorne. Being on the road didn’t allow too much time for their lessons, but it did give the children an awful lot of time to play. The children spent hours on their ponies and running along the King’s road. And then once they got to Dorne, her northern boy wasn’t used to the warm climate and had trouble sleeping. That mixed with a nightmare last night it was a fitful night of sleep for him even after Elia brought him into bed with her and Rhaegar. He managed to get a few hours of sleep though, and when Elia woke up, she was not surprised to find Dany asleep in bed with them, curled up with Jon. The two were inseparable. 

“Come here my little wolf,” Elia says grabbing a towel from next to her and wrapping it around Jon’s wet body. “Do you want to take a nap with mama?” She asks, kisses his damp curls, and lifts him onto her lap. 

“I’m not tired,” Jon huffs, but makes no attempt to move from Elia’s lap, and lays his head on her chest. 

“How about some cuddles then?” 

Jon doesn’t protest, he stays in her lap, her dress is getting damp from the pool water clinging to his body but that’s just a part of motherhood. Elia thinks it’s for the better he got out of the water. Unlike his brother and sister who’s Dornish blood protects them from the sun, Jon’s delicate skin is turning pink. Sunburn on top of getting him to sleep in the unfamiliar heat will make bedtime almost impossible that evening. Elia had hoped she’d find some time without the children to visit with her family and friends later on in the day after she gets the children in bed. Even though Rhaegar has offered to take care of them that evening, she has a difficult time leaving them for the evening before wishing them sweet dreams. 

Within minutes Jon is fast asleep, cradled in her arms. She’s grateful he still cuddles with her, Rhaneys and Aegon think they’ve gotten too big for that. Elia cannot believe how big all of her children have gotten and how quickly the past five years have gone. 

“He calls you mama?” Ashara asks once Jon’s asleep. 

“It was his first word,” Elia tells her with a proud smile, kissing his head again.

“How do you do it?” She asks.

“Do what?”

“Doesn’t he remind you of her every time you look at him?”

Elia sighs, “The first time I ever saw him, he looked so much like my Rhaenys, then after that, he just looked like an innocent babe who needed to be loved.” 

“I think if I were ever to see Ned’s children I would fall apart all over again.” 

“You wouldn’t,” Elia says sternly, “How are you though, Ashara?” she asks, her voice softening, “truly?”

“The grief still comes in waves, but I am glad Allyria stopped me.” 

Elia reaches out to take her friend’s hand, “I am very glad she did too,” she says squeezing it. 

“It is nice to have you all here. It is difficult when it feels like there is nothing to look forward to, and my routine days in Dorne have grown boring,” she says and Elia can hear the longing in her voice. 

“Why don’t you come back to King’s Landing with us?” Elia asks the moment the idea sparks in her mind. 

Ashara doesn’t respond but gives her friend a questioning look. 

“Please consider it,” Elia pleads, “I have so few friends in King’s Landing, it is usually just Rhaegar, the children, and I when official duty is done with. And I could use your help holding court and implementing all of our new initiatives. I know your mother and father wanted you to stay close, but you’d be with Arthur, Allyria can even come, she could be one of my ladies in waiting.” 

“I appreciate the offer,” Ashara says with a smile, “I will consider it.” 

“I hope you do,” Elia says with an encouraging smile. 

They watch the children for a while longer. Aegon comes to join them in the shade to read one of his books, and soon Dany comes running up to them. 

“Yaya?” Daenerys starts. 

“Yes, sweetling.”

“What’s Jon doing?” 

“He is napping, you all have had quite a lot of excitement the past few days.”

“Oh,” she says studying her best friend in her good sister’s arms, “I want to nap too.”

Elia gives her a questioning look, “you _never_ want to nap for me.” Daenerys, even though she was the youngest and littlest was as wild as a dragon with endless energy. Elia had given up on naps for her a year ago.

“But I’m sleepy,” she says with an innocent smile. Elia isn’t going to deny her a nap if she wants to take one, and a few hours not having to worry about her littlests getting into trouble while they sleep is welcomed. 

“Come here sweetling,” Ashara says to Daenerys and grabs a towel next to her, “let me help you dry off.” 

Ashara towels off Dany and then bundles her up in it while Elia lays Jon down on the blankets near Aegon. Dany curls up next to him and drifts off soon after, just as another cry of “mama” rings through the gardens. 

“It never ends,” Elia says with a playful smile, but hopes she hasn’t upset her friend who has such a longing look in her eyes every time she hears those cries. 

It is Rhaenys’ turn to run up to her, and Elia sees Rhaegar is following her. “Mother, do you think you can show me around the palace now?”

Elia promised Rhaenys she and Rhaegar would spend some time together just the three of them before they left her and Viserys in Dorne. They would come back for Rhaneys in a few months, but the plan was for Viserys to stay down there for several years under the care of Elia’s brother Oberyn and to some extent Doran. 

It seemed like it was going to work out in everyone’s best interest. Viserys had become fast friends with Arianne. Elia looks around and realizes the two have run off and are no longer playing in the pool. They are probably running around the palace as Arianne promised to show Viserys her future throne. He seemed slightly miffed that a girl would someday sit on a throne, but Elia knew he’d learn and quickly become impressed. 

“I don’t mind watching the little ones if you want to show Rhaneys around,” Ashara offers. 

“Alright, let’s put on some dry clothes though,” Elia says, helping Rhaneys back into her dress.

**___________________________________**

By the time Rhaegar has all of the children tucked in bed, it is not too late to join his wife and her family for the end of their evening meal. He promised her he’d take care of the children, and almost had to force her to enjoy the evening with her friends and family; she loved their children so much. 

He and Elia spent the better part of the week with Rhaenys, showing her around the Water Gardens and getting her saddled up with her brand new Dornish Pony that was a welcome gift from her Uncle Doran; the Prince of Dorne gifted Viserys a steed as well and took an immediate liking to the young lad. 

Ashara offered to stay with the children so Rhaegar had Arthur watch over them with her while Ser Barristan accompanied him, Elia, and Rhaneys. He knew the two siblings missed each other. Elia told him of her invitation to Ashara to come back to King’s Landing with them and Rhaegar thought it was a marvelous idea. His wife was always so thoughtful. 

As Rhaegar approaches the hall where his wife is dining it sounds like he has missed quite the lively affair. There is loud conversation and uproarious laughter coming from the dining hall. He walks in to find Elia with her brothers, Doran’s wife Lady Mellario, Ellaria Sand Oberyn’s latest paramour, as well as Arthur and Ashara Dyane. 

“Husband!” Elia shouts when she sees Rhaegar. “It is good of you to join us,” she says, holding her hand out to him. 

Rhaegar takes it and leans in to give her a soft kiss. He can taste the Dornish wine on her lips before he pulls away and sees her smiling at him. 

Rhaegar is glad that she can take some time to enjoy herself while they’re here. Back in King’s Landing, there is little time and opportunity for Rhaegar and Elia to enjoy themselves. They are constantly so busy with the children, court, their new initiatives, and most recently rebuilding some of the more dilapidated parts of Flea Bottom. Elia has done a marvelous job overlooking the restoration of their hospitals, orphanages, and schools. 

They find some time to enjoy each other every now and then; either late at night or rarely early in the morning. She didn’t force him into his own room after she stopped feeding the babies, something he was nervous about. She continued to welcome him into their bed, and he was grateful to be there even if it was just to hold her as they slept. 

It had been almost four years since he admitted his love for her, and she still hasn’t said it back. He was okay with it though. She never bristles when he says it to her, which he tries to do often, and as long as she is happy he doesn’t care. She may not have realized it but she shows him every day that she loves him, whether it be staying up late with him to go over the palace’s log of how they were spending their coin, holding court so he was able to attend small council meetings, and most heartwarmingly to him every time she tells Jon she loves him. 

Oberyn moves to the other side of Ellaria so the seat next to Elia is now free and Rhaegar gladly takes it. He helps himself to what is left of the meal and accepts the generous glass of wine Doran offers him. He understands why everyone is so merry; the wine Is some of Dorne’s finest and warms him the moment it touches his tongue. He almost chokes on it through, when he feels a small hand run up the inside of his thigh and ghost over his groin. He looks at Elia, who doesn’t break her conversation with Ashara, only giving him a wicked glance once her friend begins to speak. Her hand stays high on his inner thigh, and suddenly the delicacies in front of him don’t seem nearly as enticing as the ones next to him. 

A few glasses of wine in himself and all Rhaegar wants to do is pick up his wife and carry her to their bedroom. She’s enjoying time with her family though and he won’t be the one to spoil that for her for his own selfish needs. 

Finally, Doran calls it a night. Then Eliara takes Oberyn by the hand, the other resting on her swollen belly, and takes him to bed. Rhaegar and Elia walk with Ashara and Arthur to their chamber, leaving them at their doors, but when they get to their bedroom Elia pulls him past it.

“Elia please,” Rhaegar begs, tugging at her wrist to halt her by their door. “Let’s go into the bedroom, and anything you want tonight I will do for you.” 

“What I want is for you to follow me,” she says in a commanding voice and even though he wants nothing more than to toss her on the bed and ravish her, Rhaegar can’t deny her. So he lets Elia pull him down the hall and out the ornate double doors. They twist through the Water Gardens and only stop when his feet hit the cool sand of the beach. There isn’t a light anywhere near them but the moon is full and shining so bright that he can see everything clearly in its silvery glow. The reflection of the moon on the ocean is so stunning, making a long pathway of light on the water’s surface, that Rhaegar almost misses his wife shrug the straps of her dress off her shoulders causing the silk to silently slip from her body and fall into a pile on the beach. And then she’s bare, basked in the moonlight in front of him. 

_Fuck_

They have only been in Dorne a week but the trip has done something to her. Her skin is a little bit darker from the intense southern sun, giving her a radiant glow. He can tell that she’s been eating well, her delicate frame has a little more to offer him, and her thighs look strong from all of the horseback riding she’s been doing with the children. He thinks her nipples might even be darker too, but that could just be his imagination from his lust for her. 

She walks away from him without saying a thing, her shapely ass is something that should be worshipped, and slowly makes her way into the water. It is a calm night, with the waves just barely lapping at her ankles. Rhaegar feels like he’s in a trance as he watches her dive directly into the moonlight path on the water, disappearing for a second before she reemerges. Water is dripping down all over her Elia pushes her hair out of her face and turns toward him, smirking at the dumbstruck look on his face. 

“Aren’t you going to join me?” she asks in a seductive voice. 

That seems to snap Rhaegar out of it and not nearly as gracefully as she, quite clumsily, in fact, he starts to tear off his clothes, tripping over his trousers and nearly falling into the water as he rushes towards her. 

She’s giggling as he approaches her but is quickly silenced with a soft “mmpff” as his lips close against hers. Her legs wrap around his waist and he holds her close. She nips at his lips and her hand finds him hard for her. She gives him a few pumps and he tries to line himself up with her, but before he can slip in she pushes away and swims a little bit further away. 

He probably shouldn’t have tried that. She doesn’t like it in the water and has only agreed to sex with him a few times in the tub with his promise of eating her out after. She doesn’t seem too deterred by his attempt though, she’s still smiling at him and has a mischievous glint in her eyes. She kicks around a little more in the water and he's happy to watch her. She is so beautiful when she is carefree like this. At one point she pushes herself up in the water so she’s floating flat on her back, her gorgeous full breasts in full display for him. Rhaegar is about to reach out to touch her when she disappears under the water, and he gasps as she swims through his legs and rubs against his hard length. 

She pops up behind him and splashes him so he turns around. 

“Elia, my sweet, I am not complaining, but this is unlike you,” he states, wondering what has gotten into his wife. 

“It’s the Dornish sun,” she responds, swimming back to him, her arms find their way around his neck and legs around his waist. She traps his hard length in between then as she kisses him soundly. “It makes me want to fuck.” She whispers against his lips and kisses him with so much passion he is afraid he might drown. 

He groans into her mouth and attacks her lips. He needs to do something quickly or he will never get out of the sea. “Let me take you to bed then.” He says and it sounds like less of a question than he wanted it to. 

“As my king commands.” 

Elia squeals when he lifts her out of the water and the cool night air hits their skin. He carries her across the beach and towards the Water Gardens. 

“Rhaegar, our clothes!” She shouts but can’t stop laughing. 

“No time.” He says as he continues to make his way through the maze of fountains and pools, leaving their clothes abandoned in a heap on the beach. 

It would be horribly scandalous for the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms to be seen running naked through the Red Keep in King’s Landing. There are always eyes on them there. But here in Dorne in the Water Gardens, the only eyes on them are the guards who are sworn to secrecy anyway, and the only inhabitants at the palace are Elia’s family and closest friends. That and sex is less taboo here, so they can get away with it. 

Rhaegar gets them to their chamber quickly, even while being distracted with Elia nibbling in his neck the whole time he carried her there. 

Rhaegar gently sets Elia down on her feet, but before he can register what’s happening she pushes him against the door and drops to her knees. He can’t speak, his voice getting caught in his throat as she wastes no time taking him in her mouth. 

“Fuck, Elia.” He finally manages to choke out and gathers her hair away from her face, and holds it in his fast. 

He looks down at her to find she’s staring at him, her dark eyes almost fully black with desire. She hollows her cheeks, then runs her tongue from base to tip, swirling the head of it, before taking him fully in her mouth again. 

Rhaegar doesn’t last long. She sucks and licks until he gives her everything he has to offer, and then she takes him by the hand, leading him to the bed and pushing him down on it so he’s flat on his back. 

The blood in his body is trying to figure out where to go next. Certainly, none of it has traveled back to his brain yet because when Elia climbs back on top of him all he can do is give her a goofy smile that she just laughs at before descending upon him and kissing him again. He can taste himself in her lips as his tongue swipes against hers. 

He flinches when he rocks her hips against his and brushes his still sensitive cock against her wet center. He has to have her, that isn’t negotiable, but he needs a minute or two before he’s ready again. He pulls on her waist urging her up and she breaks the kiss to give him a questioning look. 

“Sit on my face,” he pants breathlessly, “I need to taste you.” 

She looks a little nervous about it, so he pulls in her hips again, until she shuffles above him, and slowly lowers herself down on his mouth. Rhaegar hears Elia gasp at the first swipe of his tongue against her dripping center and it makes him smile against her. 

_She tastes sweeter,_ he thinks, and vaguely remembers Oberyn saying something about Dorne’s tropical fruit’s effects on a woman's arousal. He doesn’t mind one way or another though, she’s always perfect for him.

His nose nuzzles her clit as he laps at her dripping center and he can tell she likes the angle from the breathy little moans she’s making. 

He knows she’s close and he knows how to finish her, but now that he has her like this he is rock hard and aching for her. She whines when he pulls her off and onto his lap. 

Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes sparkling. He sits up to push a strand of hair behind her ear and kisses her softly, “I need to be inside you. Ride me?” He says and this time it is more of a question because he wants her to enjoy the night too. She responds with a grin, and pushes on his chest so his back hits the bed, and slowly sinks down on him, taking her time to adjust. After a moment she starts circling her hips and bouncing in his lap, and Rhaegar throws his head back and lets out a deep groan. She’s relentless in her actions, her hands on his chest to brace herself as she continues her ride. Rhaegar’s hips meet her thrust for thrust and she cries out when he hits something deep inside. 

She feels so good and warm and tight around him that Rhaegar doesn’t notice he’s slipped into High Valeryian telling her how perfect and beautiful she is, how good she feels, and how much he loves her. 

He reaches up to palm her breast and tweak her nipple, she cries out his name and it’s enough to send him over the edge. His thrusts falter as he jerks up into her and fills her with his warm seed. She doesn’t stop though, too lost in her own pleasure and needing to finish. So Rhaegar helps her, and even though his limbs now feel like they’re filled with sand he brings his hand in between them where they are joined and with firm circles rubs her clit. She cries out his name again as she comes and collapses against him, but Rhaegar is still working her as she falls from her high, and lazily rolls her hips a few times against him. 

When she’s finished he wraps his arms right around her so she doesn’t go anywhere and allows himself to soften inside of her. She’s breathing hard as she lays on his chest and he can feel both of their hearts beating out of control. 

He pushes some of the hair out of the way so he can see her face and kisses her sweaty forehead, “We should visit Dorne more often,” he tells her, and she chuckles in response. 

She lifts her head and looks into his eyes, which he knows are slightly dazed, but she smiles. “Thank you, I needed that.” 

“Don’t thank me,” he chuckles, “I am happy to oblige anytime.” 

She kisses his lips one last time before rolling off him. Rhaegar doesn’t let her go far and gathers her up against him as they both fall asleep. 

When Elia wakes up the next morning there is a dull headache building behind her left eye, and the morning sunlight streaming through the windows is far too bright. She groans, rolls over, and opens her eyes to see Rhaegar partially dressed sitting on the bed next to her with a tray of three beverages and another with a light breakfast. 

“Good morning sunshine,” he calls her as playfully as he has since they were young and first married. 

She sits up too quickly, the world spinning as she does so, and pulls her knees up to rest her head on them while covering her eyes with her hands. 

Rhaegar’s hand rubs soothingly up her bare back while he gives her a minute before speaking. 

“Would you like water or willow bark first?” Rhaegar asks softly. 

“Willow bark,” she says and accepts the cup from him sipping it down. It almost immediately soothes the pain. “What’s the third cup?” she asks nodding towards it.

Rhaegar grimaces slightly, “That is moon tea, which I’m going to have to insist you drink. I’m sorry. We got a little bit carried away last night.” 

“It’s fine.” Elia says motioning for him to hand her the cup, “I don’t mind taking it every now and then.” She holds her breath while she drinks the tea in an attempt to not taste its full bitterness. “Are the children up?” She asks. Rhaegar will have to get them ready for the day now that she’s had moon tea, it’s known to make her slightly nauseous and the best thing she can do to combat that is to stay in bed for an extra hour or two. 

“I’ve asked the maids to get them ready. They have to do their lessons today and if I give in one more time to Daenerys asking me if they can play I will be the worst father and guardian in all of Westeros.” 

It makes Elia chuckle. Several years ago she gladly would have branded him with that title, but he’s redeemed himself since then. “What do you have planned for the day?” She asks, slinking back under the bedsheet and lying on her side to study him. 

“I thought I would lie here with you until you feel well enough to get up and then ask you to accompany me to a trade meeting with Doran.”

“Hmm,” she hums, “using me because you know my brother can’t say no to his little sister?”

“Actually because I know you _can_ say no to me, and you will be the most nonpartisan voice in the discussion and make the best decisions with everyone in mind,” he says sliding down in the bed so he’s lying next to her. “Then I thought we could maybe go swimming again tonight?” He suggests carefully, which makes her laugh. 

“I don’t know if I can be as bold as last night without the same amount of wine, which I don’t anticipate drinking again. But perhaps if we can get these trade negotiations over with quickly, one day before we leave we can put the children in their lessons, and have the guards block off one of the pools for us and spend the day there?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, my Queen,” Rhaegar says with a smile and leans in to kiss her once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's kind of funny when I first posted this I didn't expect Rhaegar/Elia fans to read it? Even though that's the first couple I tagged. I don't know why I guess coming from the Jonerys world that's all I was focused on. Anyway, I am glad you're all here and enjoying it. Consider this little bit of spice my Valentine's Day gift to you. 
> 
> Up next we should be one step closer to Winterfell. And hang in there Jonerys fans, we're getting there. 
> 
> Oh also, expect updates to be less frequent. I have run out of pre-written parts, apart from the very end, that's written, but we have quite a ways to go to get there.


	11. Fevers and remedies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little interlude because I feel like I have been neglecting sweet baby Aegon

The trip to Dorne had been the much-needed vacation Rhaegar didn’t know his family needed. Everyone had benefited from the relaxation in the sun. The children managed to learn their lessons rather quickly so they were able to play in the pool, or on the beaches, and in the sea while the sun was still high in the sky. 

What delighted Rhaegar the most was at the beginning of the trip Aegon, Jon, and Dany couldn’t do much more than splash around in the shallow ends of the pool, now they were floating in the deeper areas and kicking around the whole length of the pool, and even in the sea. Under the watchful eye of his wife just in case one of them got a little too ambitious before they fully learned, he taught each of them how to swim. He joked they might have been every bit fish as they were dragons, which seemed to horribly insult Daenerys that she could be anything other than a dragon. 

Elia had once again been right, and it was looking like bringing Viserys to Dorne was the best choice. The boy had completely broken out of his shell after a few weeks of being down there. Arianne, he held some kind of respect for right off the bat, in large part due to the word Princess proceeding her name, but it was her cousins and friends, many of whom were Sands, that seemed to put him in his place. All of the children down in Dorne treated him like he was no better than anyone else, he was never ridiculed or tormented for who he was, but being treated the same as all the other children, regardless of their birth status, was what Viserys needed. That and in Dorne he would be able to live without the scrutiny of the crown, the prowling eyes of the visiting Lords, or in the shadow of his father’s legacy. It seemed like everyone was waiting and hoping for the impressionable young Prince to go mad. 

Leaving Rhaenys in Dorne had been the hardest thing Rhaegar had ever done. Whoever ran away with Lyanna Stark all those years ago was a completely different man because leaving his only daughter in Dorne, even though it was only for a few months, felt like a dagger to his heart. Rhaegar wept into Elia’s lap that first night on the road away from her. He didn’t ask for her comfort, that would have been cruelly unfair, but he begged her for her forgiveness all over again. 

Elia simply responded to his cries with a few “I know, I miss her too,” and her usual promise to Rhaegar that she could forgive him as long as he never did it again. 

Elia had let out a few tears of her own tears while hugging Rhaenys goodbye before the rest of the royal family departed on their horses and with two more Daynes in their party then they had arrived with. 

The trip had been easy and everything was going just fine until two days before they were due to arrive back at King's Landing. Rhaegar wished knew he should have been waiting for the other shoe to drop so that when Elia had fallen horribly ill he wouldn’t have been as shocked by the gods' cruel games. 

Rhaegar was terrified. 

It started as a small cough and turned into something worse overnight. Elia woke one morning with a horrible fervor and deep body aches and chills. She was far too weak to ride her horse, but sitting in the bumpy carriage did nothing to help her nausea. When they finally arrived back in King’s Landing, Rhaegar had to carry her up to their bedroom and sat with her the whole time the maester looked her over. The maester assured whatever it was it was not life-threatening but with Elia’s delicate health they kept her under careful observation. Rhaegar still sat up with her through the night as she coughed and shivered. 

Luckily, Ashara was a godsend. She immediately jumped into Elia’s role while she was recovering and helped Rhaegar and his Hand with the pressing matter of the Kingdoms for the time being. She and Allyria were also incredibly helpful in keeping the children entertained and away from Elia. Rhaegar didn’t want them getting sick or seeing her so ill and weak, he also thought that their boundless energy would be too much for her right away. It had been a few days now and they had been asking nonstop how she was and if they could see her. 

Rhaegar just wrapped up a meeting and was headed to check on Elia. He knew Ashara was with her now but he wanted to check on her nonetheless. 

The children were in their lessons. Well, the children were supposed to be in their lessons, but when Rhaegar approaches his bedroom door he sees that that is not the case. He finds Ashara kneeling down in front of the door to his chambers listening to whatever his two sons have to say. No doubt trying to convince her to let them in. She has a soft spot for Jon, no one can fault her for that, but even so, she isn’t so easily swayed. 

“Aunty Ashara please let us in. We haven’t seen mama in forever!” Jon begs.

“Your mother is sleeping, and you have to ask father.”

“But he keeps saying no,” Aegon tells her, “he’s never going to let us in, please aunt Ashara!” 

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Ashara says nodding her head and to indicate someone is behind them. The boys turn to see Rhaegar smiling at them, arms folded over his chest and leaning against the wall. 

“Caught,” Aegon whispers to his little brother.

“You boys are supposed to be in your lessons,” Rhaegar says sternly. 

“But we finished early, Papa!” Aegon explains.

Rhaegar raises his eyebrow in question to the two of them. 

“Papa, we really did finish our lessons early! I even helped Jon and Dany too!” Aegon says. 

And like she is being summoned Dany’s little voice rings from down the hall. “I got the soup!” She calls and enters with a smile until she spies her big brother and her smile falls. “I told you you had to go quick with aunty, Jon. Did you do the eyes like I taught you?” 

Jon nods.

“She’s harder than Rhaegar then,” Daenerys mumbles. 

Rhaegar walks over to her to take the bowl of soup that Dany has managed to splash down her dress. “Ow. That is hot Daenerys.” He says quickly moving it from her hands to the windowsill next to him in the hall. 

She wrinkles her little brow and looks at him confused, “No it’s not,” she says. 

“Papa please!” Jon begs, “first we don’t get to see Rhaneys anymore, now we don’t get to see mama?” Jon says his little lip wobbling. Daenerys’ lessons seemed to be pretty good after all.

“She’s ill, Jon, we need to let her rest.” Rhaegar tries to explain for the millionth time. 

“Is my mama going to die like Jon and Dany’s?” Aegon asks in a quiet voice. 

_Shit_

Now Rhaegar feels like an absolute monster. He gets down on one knee and opens his arms for all of his little ones to huddle in his embrace. 

“No. Absolutely not. Mama is going to be fine,” he says kissing all of their heads. “She needed some rest to get stronger and better, but let me go check on her, maybe she’s up to see you three.” 

Rhaegar pushes the door to his bedroom open as quietly as he can and then closes it behind him knowing that his three children are piled up against it. It’s pitch black in the room, the curtains pulled tight. Elia is asleep in their bed. Her cheeks are still flushed but she looks so much better than a few days before. 

Rhaegar sits in the bed next to her and gently cups her cheek in one hand and forehead in the other. She’s still warm but her fever is going down. He gently rubs his fingers over her forehead and through her hair until Elia’s eyes flutter open. 

“Sorry to wake you,” he says in a whisper. 

She whines a little and closes her eyes again for a second so he keeps gently massaging her head.

“Is it time for more medicine?” She asks after a moment. 

“Soon, but that’s not why I woke you. You have three little dragons who are very nervous about how you are and anxious to see you,” he tells her, "and Daenerys brought you some soup.” 

“Let my babies in, I miss them,” she says. 

Rhaegar leans down to kiss her forehead and helps her sit up against some pillows before moving to open the door. The three children almost fall on top of each other as they try to pile in. He stops them before they can race in.

“Gentle, and quiet voices,” he commands. They nod and refrain from jumping up in the bed, but scurry up it as quickly and gently as possible. Jon is the first in Elia’s arms, then Aegon, then Dany flops herself on top of the two of them. 

“Oh, I have missed you,” Elia says, “how long has it been?” 

“Forever,” the little ones say together, earning them a laugh from their mother. 

“It has only been four days,” Rhaegar says. 

“You kept my children away from me for four days?” Elia says clearly upset. 

“Dany tried to beg the guards so many times but they don’t say yes to her as easy as papa does,” Aegon tells his mother. Elia laughs and Rhaegar rolls his eyes. 

“You needed to get better,” Rhaegar defends himself. 

“Well I feel much better now that you are here,” she says kissing the children once more on their heads. Rhaegar doesn’t think she means it though because she starts to look a little faint. It’s the longest she’s sat up in a couple of days and he wants to suggest the children leave the room now so she can rest some more, but she glares at him like she knows what he’s thinking. 

Instead, he and the children help her move the pillows so she’s reclined a little better and Jon and Aegon each take a spot on either one of her sides, and Daenerys, who’s still quite little for her age, lies on Elia’s chest. Rhaegar sits next to them but the children feel too betrayed by him for keeping them away and only want to snuggle with their mother, who they haven’t seen in a few days.

They quietly catch Elia up on everything she’s missed over the last few days, how papa doesn’t do the voices for storytime, and how Ashara can’t quite get Dany’s braids right. They tell her that in their lessons they practiced their letters and writing in common tongue and in High Valyrian, which all of her children have been fluent in since birth. Recently they have been learning about House Lannister of Casterly Rock and that as of the last few years Tyrion Lannister became the new head of the house. They are excited to tell her they have already received a letter from Rhaenys and Viserys and Jon was able to read them all by himself. 

Soon the maester comes in to administer Elia’s medicine and a maid follows with a fresh bowl of soup for Elia, and a few others for the rest of the family if they care to join. Jon and Daenerys move to the side while the maester is in the room but Aegon listens with rapt attention to what he is telling Elia then starts asking questions of his own. 

“Did you give mama mint for her tummy?” he asks. 

“I did,” the Maester responds.

“And liquorice and comfrey for her cough.”

“Yes”

“Did you give mama coriander for her fever?”

“Yes”

“Did it work?”

“Not very well.”

“Have you tried willow bark?”

The maester hesitates, “I hadn't thought of that.”

“I think it stops the same bad stuff in fevers as in ouchies and should work,” Aegon says quite confidently. 

Elia looks at her son, “what books have you been reading?” she asks him.

The silver-haired boy shrugs, “All of them.” 

Rhaegar thinks he perhaps needs to review the boy's lesson plans and discuss with the maesters about making them a little more advanced. 

For about an hour more the family visits, but by then Elia is truly fatigued. 

“Let’s put mama to bed, issa byka zaldrīzoti,” _my little dragons_ Rhaegar tells them. 

They all help by pulling the bedsheets up and over her shoulders and then take turns kissing her head like Elia would give them every night before bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was written very quickly and probably could have been given some more time and love but I've been hung up on the next chapter for a while now so I wanted to get this out. 
> 
> Next time I promise we are one step closer to Winterfell.


	12. Outbursts

“But I don’t wanna, Elia! ” Daenerys says with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest and in her young age still slightly stumbling over her good sister’s name. 

“That is enough Daenerys,” Elia snaps and ties off the last of her braids, making sure that the little tiara on the princess's head is secure.

Over on her bed, her hair already done, Rhaenys is looking just as disappointed as Daenerys with what is to come of the day, but she has learned by now no amount of complaining will get her out of it. 

Elia and Rhaegar had not done the best job raising their daughters to be the perfect little princesses the rest of the realm expected them to be. 

Rhaenys, especially after spending all those months in Dorne with Oberyn, is extremely gifted with a whip and a spear. Aegon is always engulfed in his books, but enjoys his bow and arrow when he is pushed to, and recently has a passion for building useful devices. Jon enjoys sparring any chance he got. And while Daenerys doesn’t yet have the strength to hold a sword, she has a sharp eye and a good shot with a bow. The little princes and princesses love riding their ponies most of all. So that is why last night when Rhaegar and Elia explained to the little royals that the Tyrells would be visiting court and Rhaenys and Daenerys were expected to take tea and practice their stitching, Daenerys had a full-on meltdown. She went to bed angry and woke up in a foul mood. 

It’s not like Elia is particularly thrilled to spend the whole day with the Queen of Thorns. While Elia can’t be bothered to care about any family feuds, the deep-seated hate between the Martells and Tyrells still burns hot in their families. At least she has Ashara, another Dornish woman, by her side now that the castle is about to be overrun by Tyrells. 

Rhaegar knew his wife was put in a difficult position of having to spend the day with Olenna Tyrell, so he was apologetic in the form of waking her this morning under the sheets with his head between her thighs and that wicked tongue of his. At least that way her day would start out well. 

He then got all the kids bathed while she enjoyed her bath in peace, but he had no choice but to hand off two disappointed princesses to be dressed and get their hair combed and braided. 

Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon all wore red, orange, and yellow to remind the Tyrells that the Martells ruled the seven kingdoms now. Elia knew it was a petty act, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. Jon had on his rare white and grey to represent the Starks. Daenerys was supposed to be dressed in black and red like Rhaegar but threw an absolute fit that all of the other children got new colors for the day. She then proceeded to have a problem with every single dress she was presented with and was finally dressed in green when Ashara suggested it would make her purple eyes sparkle and Jon said he thought that one was pretty. It seemed there was going to be no pleasing the youngest Targaryen today. 

Elia moves from behind Daenerys to face the little girl. She is still dressed only in her robe and needs to put her dress on soon. She needs the robe to move more freely while she helps the girls get dressed before donning her elaborate jewel-encrusted gown. Her hair and jewelry are all done and on and everything is a little more ostentatious than usual since it’s Westeros’ richest family who’s joining them. Well, second richest. But with the way Tyrion Lannister is burning through his family’s fortune, she suspects it is only a matter of time before the Tyrell’s weight of gold surpasses his. 

Elia kneels before Daenerys and takes her hands, “Look at me Daenerys,” she says to the young girl who refuses to meet her eyes. Finally light violet meets dark brown and Elia can see the fire behind them. “We are all going to greet the Tyrells when they arrive. Then you, Rhaenys, Margaery, Lady Olenna, Ashara, and I will take tea and spend a few hours stitching, while Jon and Aegon spar with Loras, and some of the sons of the Tyrell’s sworn Lords. We will all dine together tonight at a big feast. The cooks are making those lemon cakes you like so much,” Elia tells her and Daenerys smiles at the mention of lemon cakes before she remembers she is supposed to be angry. 

“But it’s not fair! The boys get to spar and do their bow and arrows. They _like_ that. I hate stitching!” 

“Oh darling you have no idea how truly unfair their world can be, I am afraid,” Elia murmurs and kisses her forehead. “You are a princess Daenerys, and that is what is expected of you. And sometimes we must do things that are expected of us even if we don’t want to,” she explains to the young girl. 

“I wanna play with the boys!” Dany huffs crossing her arms. Elia thinks her message is understood, Daenerys is just clearly still not happy with it. 

“And leave Rhaenys to practice her stitching all by herself?” Elia asks.

“No, she should come play too,” Daenerys stresses. 

“There will be plenty of time to play when the Tyrells are gone,” Elia explains once again.

“Come on Dany. There’s no getting out of it, unfortunately. I’ve been trying for years,” Rhaenys says, and hops off the bed. “Let’s let mother get dressed. We can go to the kitchens, I saw them making the lemon cakes this morning.” That seems to perk up Dany and she hops from her stool and takes her niece's hand. 

“Only one each, Rhaenys,” Elia says sternly,

Elia can feel the girls pout as they walk out and Ashara helps Elia into her gown. 

Elia drops her robe and steps over to Ashara, who’s dressed in a beautiful soft lilac dress. It seems like everyone will be dressed in their house colors today, well everyone but Daenerys, she thinks with a frown. 

“Do you think if I can pretend to fall ill we can get out of this?” Elia asks her friend, absolutely dreading what is to come of the day. 

Ashara laughs, “I’m afraid that will only give the Tyrells a reason to extend their stay. Lady Olenna has been quite insistent on coming for a visit since I arrived back in King's Landing, we’ve delayed it almost a full year now.” 

Elia sighs as Ashara begins to tie the laces and push together the row of dozens of satin buttons covering her back. 

“You will be fine,” Ashara assures her friend, “you are just as clever as Lady Olenna.” 

“I don’t have nearly as sharp a tongue,” Elia responds knowing her kindness has always been as much a curse as it was a gift. 

“I think I would rather spend the day reworking the city’s sewage than spending it with the Tyrells,” Ashara says while wrinkling her nose at the thought. The Daynes were never as hated as the Martells by the Tyrells but right there with them in direct conflict. 

“I would much rather be finishing the last of the accommodations on the new school,” Elia sighs. She loves her work as queen. Rhaegar is always open to her ideas, and she has put a strong emphasis on taking care of the people Flea Bottom, and specifically the children. So many of them are doomed to live and die in that life, the least she can do is provide opportunities for them, give them a way to learn a new trade or skill so they can hopefully build themselves a better life. 

“I would much rather that as well,” Ashara hums as she continues to lace and button Elia’s dress. “Rhaegar is never going to be able to get you out of this,” Ashara mumbles. 

“Ashara!” Elia scolds. 

“Oh spare me, like I can’t guess where these bite marks along in your spine are from.”

Elia blushes, “I told him not to leave marks,” she says horrified that that might be on display for Olenna Tyrell to criticize. 

“He didn’t leave them where anyone other than he, and I guess I, can see them,” Ashara teases. 

Finally, Ashara gets the dress secured and Elia dons her final piece of jewelry, an ornate crown, Elia’s favorite because it was a gift to her on her wedding day from Rhaella. 

She joins her husband who is attempting to wrangle the children and keep them from playing too wildly and getting their nice clothes dirty. Naturally, the three youngest are running circles around Rhaegar as they play dragons. Rhaenys is by the instruments that live in the corner of the great hall waiting to be played. She distractedly plucks at the harp in the corner probably wishing that one of her friends from school or back in Dorne were with her. She loves her little siblings and is fiercely protective of them, but she’s grown out of their childish games. Elia thinks maybe after her next stay in Dorne Rhaenys should bring one of her cousins back with her to King's Landing. 

Elia manages to get her family down to the gates and lined up waiting for the Tyrells. She keeps Daenerys in front of her with her hands on her shoulders in fear that at any moment the little girl will bolt in one final attempt to get out of the day. 

The Tyrells arrive and are cordial. Little Margaery is every bit a lady, and the girls put up a good front for introductions. Naturally, Lady Olenna remarks that the city smells like shit. If she only knew what it used to smell like before they set out to improve Flea Bottom’s sanitation. When it is finally time for Rhaegar to take the boys to the sparring field and Elia the girls to one of the parlors, Rhaegar catches Elia around the waist and pulls her close to him giving her a soft kiss and one last apologetic look. 

The boys run off to their fun chasing after one another. Daenerys, who’s holding Elia’s hand, looks longingly after them. Elia crouches down to straighten Daenerys’ little tiara, “Princesses don’t pout, my little love,” she tells her, but it does nothing to wipe the look off Dany’s face. 

The women get settled on the terrace. Elia opts to sit outdoors since it’s such a beautiful day and Olenna doesn’t protest. The girls are handed their embroidery and it seems to be going fine, apart from Daenerys who Elia thinks is just angrily stabbing at the cloth. 

“Tea will be fine, thank you,” she says to one of the serving girls, and Ashara orders the same thing. 

“Oh come now,” Olenna says startling the two of them, “when have two Dornish women ever been such prudes? Three glasses of Dorne’s finest. I didn’t come all the way down here to enjoy tea. Good wine is the only thing your people have ever managed to accomplish.” 

Elia bites her tongue. It seems she’ll be resigned to drinking wine this early in the day, not that it is too uncommon but certainly not her usual standard. Upon the first sip, Elia thinks it might in fact help the day pass by. 

Their conversation is decently mundane talking about the harvest in Highgarden this year, and their families. Olenna looks offended that Viserys is in Dorne and loving it down there. She mumbles something about how Targaryens breeding with all of these Martells is going to be just as bad as breeding with themselves. Elia chooses to ignore that. 

Things start to get a little more interesting when Olenna starts sharing gossip from around the Kingdoms. She begins to tell them of the arguments between the two remaining Baratheon brothers as a serving girl comes in to replenish their food and brink. 

“Now there are rumors that…” she begins but Daenerys cuts her off before she can finish.

“Lady Olenna I know your house words!” Daenerys abruptly shouts. 

“Well I would hope you do, you have the finest tutors in all of Westeros,” she scoffs. 

“Growing Strong.” Daenerys states. 

“Daenerys, why don’t you,” Elia starts but the young girl cuts her off again.

“Elia’s family the Martell’s is ‘Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken,” Daenerys says and without taking a breath lists a few more, giving Elia no option to cut her off. She’s rattled off Greyjoy, Stark, Lannister and is about to do Tully when the serving girl walks away and Daenerys stops herself mid-sentence. “You can keep talking,” the little girl says and returns to stabbing at her embroidery. 

“Daenerys!” Elia scolds, “what was the meaning of that?” She didn’t love this rule that children are not meant to speak unless spoken to, but when dealing with the Queen of Thrones, an important ally from a powerful family, Elia is willing to follow along with that custom. 

Daenerys motions with her hand for Elia and Olenna to lean forward so they can hear her as she whispers. “You can not tell secrets around that serving girl. She talks _a lot_ , and I think she tells things to that yucky Littlefinger.” Daenerys says while wrinkling her nose as if the thought alone of that man is enough to disgust the young girl. 

Elia can agree with her on her dislike for that weasel-like man. They banished him from the Red Keep years ago, so she is unsettled that someone employed by him would work so closely around her family. Elia certainly doesn’t need Littlefinger hearing some of her personal affairs she shares with Ashara. 

“How do you know this Daenerys?” Elia asks. 

“The little birds tell me,” Daenerys says. 

“And what if there is a secret I want to be spread around the castle?” Olenna questions Dany. 

Daenerys thinks for a minute, “You should probably say it where the little birds can hear you then. They can spread secrets just as easy as they can find them.” 

“How would I know where to find them then?” 

“Easy, they listen where you think you're safe. Sometimes it’s better to share secrets in a loud room than a quiet place because then no one can hear you,” Daenerys says matter of factly. 

“You’re a clever little thing aren’t you?” Olenna says to Dany, making her smile. “I’ve always found stitching rather dull, as I imagine you do. What would you rather be doing instead?” The old woman asks the little girl.

“Would you like to watch me ride my pony Lady Olenna?” Holding her hand out for Olenna to take. “The Master of Horses says I’m as good as any Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea.” 

Olenna smiles and takes the little princess’s hand.

“Here Elia,” Daenerys says handing her good sister her embroidery, “I don’t know how to do it.” And sure enough, Elia looks down to see a few very rough stitches that could look like a dragon if she squinted her eyes, and tipped it the right way, 

“Do you know how to ride horsies Margaery?” Daenerys asks her. Little Margaery shakes her head no. “I’ll teach you,” Daenerys promises. 

Rhaenys has the courtesy to at least look at her mother for approval before taking Margaery's hand and all but skipping off with the little girl to the stables. 

Elia stands, still slightly confused by what has happened. 

“This will be fun,” Ashara says looping her arm through Elia’s and encouraging her friend to walk. 

They catch up with Dany and Olenna who are slow to move due to the old woman’s limp. Daenerys is chatting the whole way about how ponies will have to do until she can bring dragons back into the world. Olenna is nothing but amused. 

Rhaenys takes off the second she gets on her horse and before Elia can even call for her to stay close. Daenerys climbs up on her pony and stays with Margaery for a moment but soon Daenerys is showing off her skill for her audience of Olenna, Ashara, and Elia. She's riding circles around the stable boys who are teaching Margaery what to do. 

“That one is wild as a dragon,” Olenna says with an amused smile as she watches the little girl. “She could certainly show Margaery a thing or two about being a little more rebellious, the girl’s too obedient.” 

Elia doesn’t comment, wishing her daughters were better listeners but supposing that might be her fault. 

“If it weren’t for the northern looks of the boy you’d think she was Lyanna Stark’s daughter.” 

Elia bristles at her words. 

“Oh that wasn’t a criticism against you, dear,” Olenna says, catching Elia’s shudder. “You’ve done a marvelous job raising these children. Even the ones that aren’t yours. It was why I wanted to come and visit. I needed to see it for myself. For years the people have been raving about ‘The Good Queen Elia,’ who has so much love in her heart she’s even taking care of her husband’s bastard as if he were her own.  
  


“Jon is not a bastard,” Elia says firmly in a tone that makes Ashara’s eyes widen that she would speak to Olenna like that. 

“I didn’t say he was,” Olenna remarks, completely unphased by her tone. “But you must know what the lords say of him.”

Elia knows exactly what people say about Jon and every time it makes her blood boil. There isn’t a reason in the world to hate or say such vile things about her sweet boy. 

“Still, it is quite remarkable you’re so accepting of the boy. King of the Seven Kingdoms or not, if my husband showed up with the child of another woman I would have taken his sword and killed him myself. And the child I would have tossed to the wolves. Though I suppose as a Stark he might come back leading the pack,” Olenna says with a smirk. 

“I could have killed Rhaegar after what he did to us,” Elia says, catching sight of Rhaenys and glancing over to Aegon. Olenna looks delighted in her confession. “But Jon has always been the sweetest boy. I had no choice to love him the second I looked into his eyes. Somehow he helped us grow back together.”

They don’t talk anymore about it, instead, they watch the girls ride their ponies. Margaery seems to be quickly getting the hang of it. Elia keeps glancing over to see what the boys are up to. At one point Aegon has a sparring sword in his hand which she thinks is odd, her older son prefers his books or bow. 

In the time that Elia focuses her attention back on the girls, there is a shrill scream and to her absolute horror, Elia turns back around to see her older son attacking a boy on the ground with all the strength he has. Rhaenys and Daenerys come tearing by her to see what’s happening before she can even move. 

“Stop! Please stop!” The boy on the ground cries. Elia doesn’t even notice she’s moving until she’s almost right next to them and she can see the anger in Aegon's eyes as he continues to hit the boy with his sparring sword, showing no signs of letting up. 

“Aegon! Enough!” Rhaegar shouts but the boy doesn’t seem to hear. His father catches him from behind - hoisting him under his arms. Aegon drops his sword in surprise that someone has come to stop him but it doesn’t stop his struggle. 

“Don’t ever call my brother that ever again!” Aegon shouts. 

Elia looks at Jon who’s limply holding his sword looking paled and slightly horrified by the whole event. 

“What did he call you?” Rhaenys asks, rushing to her brother’s side and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Daenerys is only a few steps behind her. 

Elia can hardly hear the word Jon mutters over Aegon’s screams. He is still kicking and struggling in his father's arms, but she’s sure by the ashamed look on his face that Jon has just muttered “bastard.” 

“What?” Rhaenys and Dany yell at the same time and look like they’re about to grab the nearest sparring swords and take care of the pudgy boy who is still cowering in the ground in fear of Aegon. 

“No,” Jon says calmly as ever and catches his sister and aunt by their wrists so they can’t run off, “l think he learned his lesson.” 

By this point, Aegon’s yelling hasn’t stopped and Rhaegar has no choice but to haul Aegon away from the scene and into the castle. It might not be the most proper thing to do as King, but if anyone has doubts he isn’t an involved father they won’t after this. 

Elia is about to help the boy off the ground when a man who she recognizes as Randylll Tarley approaches them and Elia realizes this is his son. 

“What in seven hells did you do, boy?” His father scolds and Lord Tarley does not help the boy off the ground, so much as he roughly forces him to stand. 

“Apologize to the queen!” He shouts and shoves the boy forward. 

“I’m sorry Your Grace,” the young boy apologizes through tears. He turns to Jon and then apologizes to him too. “I’m sorry Prince Jon. I didn’t mean to upset you and your brother.” He sniffles before his father pushes him along his way. 

“My Queen?” Ashara says and Elia turns to see her standing in front of a whole hoard of curious Tyrells. “Perhaps you might want to take the children to get cleaned up and I would be happy to talk to the Tyrells about some of the renovations we’ve made on the city, as I show them the grounds,” Ashara suggests likely. 

“Yes,” Elia says still a little flustered over what just happened, “Thank you Ashara. Come here my loves,” Elia says, taking Jon and Dany by the hand, and Rhaeneys leads the way into the Red Keep. 

They don’t have to guess too hard where Rhaegar has taken Aegon, his yells can be heard from all the way up in Elia’s bedchamber. 

“No one speaks to my brother like that!” Aegon shouts at Rhaegar. It seems as if the two are in a standoff when Elia enters the room with the rest of their children. 

“You are to be King, Aegon,” Rhaegar starts but Aegon cuts him off. 

“And as King I will punish those who go against my will!” He shouts back at his father. 

“Stop!” Elia says in her commanding queenly voice she rarely has to use. “That is not how this works, Aegon. Sit down on the bed.” Aegon begrudgingly listens to her. “Jon, can you please join your brother and sit next to him?” Elia asks in a softer voice. Jon listens and Daenerys hops up on the bed next to him taking his hand. Rhaegar pulls the settee in the room up so he and Elia can sit across from the boys. Rhaenys sits with her parents like she wants to be part of the discussion. _She’s growing up so fast,_ Elia thinks. 

“Now someone please _calmly_ explain to me what happened,” she says. 

“That boy called Jon a bastard!” Aegon shouts crossing his arms over his chest in a huff. “And that’s a bad word!” 

“That is a bad word, Aegon,” Rhaegar says, “but you cannot hit someone over bad words. You could have hurt him.” 

“I didn’t hit him anywhere he would get hurt,” Aegon says. “Plus he’s too fat to get anything other than bruised, and he had padding on.”

“We do not hit, for any reason, especially over bad words,” Elia says firmly to her older son, “nor do we speak of people like that.” 

“But you always tell me that I am a big brother and I have to take care of Jon and Dany! And even Rhaenys even though she’s older!” 

“You are to be King, Aegon.” Rhaegar says and Elia notices Rhaenys next to her slightly tense at those words like she always does, “we cannot just punish everyone who offends or disappoints us.”

“But he was mean! Jon said maybe mama can come watch us and that fat boy told him she isn’t his mama, and that Jon doesn’t have a mama, and he’s just a bastard!” 

Elia doesn’t know if the words sting her or Jon more, but it seems to be too much for him to hear again because quicker than anyone has time to stop him Jon hops off the bed and runs out of the room. 

“Jon wait!” Dany calls and runs out after him, 

Rhaegar sighs and begins to stand, but Elia stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “I will talk to Jon.” She tells her husband, and then turns to her daughter, “Rhaenys, will you help your Aunt Ashara show the Tyrells around?” 

Rhaenys leaves the room with her mother. Rhaegar is left to handle Aegon and come up with some kind of punishment for him. Elia makes her way down the hall to find Jon and Dany in Jon’s room. Jon is sitting on the bed with little tears rolling down his cheeks while Daenerys attempts to comfort him. 

“It’s ok Jon. I don’t have a mama either. Or even a papa, but Elia and Rhaegar do a good job.” Daenerys says sitting cross-legged on the bed with him. 

The death of her parents never seemed to weigh on Daenerys like it did Jon. She is such a happy little girl, with a wild spirit and a fiery attitude, but happy all the same. Elia and Rhaegar shower Daenerys with the same love and affection they give all their children. 

Jon on the other hand, is always solemn, even as a babe, with a little brooding frown to perfectly match Rhaegar’s. He seems to feel things differently and stronger than most children, and as of late he gets quite gloomy whenever he hears of Lyanna. He’s started asking more questions now that he is getting old enough to understand. Elia suspects his melancholy towards it stems from being unable to fully understand how he has two mothers when his siblings only have one. And how there is a whole other very important person in his life who he never had the chance to meet. They have not even begun to explore the second family he has up in the North. 

Elia knocks lightly on the doorframe alerting her children she’s there. _Knocking_ is a necessary skill in their house that the little ones need to learn. 

“Daenerys,” she says gently, “can you join Rhaenys in entertaining the Tyrells? I’m sure Margaery is wondering where her new friend ran off to.” 

Daenerys looks reluctant to go but leans in to kiss Jon’s cheek and scampers off. 

Elia does her best to crouch by the side of the bed so she’s eye level with Jon. Her restricting gown is making it hard. She’ll change before she heads back down, Aegon’s outburst is enough to show the Targaryen’s strength and power. She doesn’t need a silly dress to prove anything to the Tyrells. 

“Jon, look at me, my love.” She says taking his small hands in hers, and dark brown eyes meet each other. After all of these years seeing him cry still breaks her heart. Sometimes she misses when the children were just babes and she could shield them from the pain of the world and comfort them by simply rocking them in her arms. 

“Do I have to call you Elia now, like Dany does?” He asks in nearly a whisper. 

“No,” she says immediately, her heartbreaking at the thought of it. “If you would like to you can because that is your choice. But I love it when you call me mama.” 

Jon gives her a solemn nod and wipes his eyes, the tears stopping for now. “Why did that boy say you’re not my mother?” 

“Because he does not understand our family. People fear what they do not understand, Jon. And sometimes people try to overcome their fear by saying unkind things. But that does not make Aegon hitting him right, you understand that, correct?” She asks and Jon nods in the affirmative. 

Jon looks like he wants to say something else but he’s struggling to find the words, so after a minute he gives up, and Elia stands, and Jon stands up on his bed. 

“I love you, my son,” Elia says pulling him into a hug and kissing his wild hair.

“I love you too, mama,” Jon responds holding her tight like he’s afraid to let go. 

**_________________________________**

Before the feast, Aegon is expected to apologize to the Tarlys and Lady Olenna. Lord Tarley makes that quite hard though when he forces his young son, whom Elia learns is called Samwell, to beg for their forgiveness instead. That isn’t the lesson Elia wants her children to learn. 

The apology with Lady Olenna is more interesting. 

“I am sorry for my behavior Lady Olenna. That was wrong of me to hit one of your Lord’s sons,” Aegon says. 

“It was admirable defending your brother,” Lady Olenna begins, “but not all conflicts should be solved with a sword.” 

“That’s what Papa says,” Aegon says begrudgingly. 

“Your father is a good King. As you will be. He made a couple of mistakes along the way but haven’t we all? Perhaps next time when we disagree or there is a conflict we practice a little more discretion, hmm?”

Aegon gives her a solemn nod. He is always a little more despondent when someone mentions his future as king. 

Elia is dreading the feast by the time it rolls around that evening. She notices that Rhaegar and Ashara must also be as unenthused to be there, and none of them shy away from the wine in their cups. It turns out to be great fun for everyone apart from Aegon who is required to stay seated at the head table and not allowed to play with the other children, as punishment, during the feast. His outburst seems to be forgotten though, and Lady Olenna makes the event quite enjoyable. They all laugh at every inappropriate thing she says and joke she makes, many at the expense of her son. 

By the end of the evening, Rhaegar and Elia are exhausted. They strip down to nothing but can’t find it in themselves to do anything other than collapse into bed and lie there holding each other. Rhaegar is curled up behind Elia holding her to his chest. His fingers are tracing circles on her stomach and he’s placing a soft kiss every now and then to the back of her neck. 

“Rhaegar?” Elia says when the kisses stop, fearing he’s fallen asleep. 

“Hmm?” He mumbles.

“Olenna mentioned earlier, before the incident, that Lords all over the Kingdoms call Jon a bastard. It would make sense why that boy said those horrible things. Children repeat what their parents say.”

Rhaegar sighs, “I can’t control what the Lords think or say, my love.” 

“I know, but I worry Jon is going to start to believe it or think of himself as lesser because of it. He’s so confused.” She’s quiet for a moment then continues, “ I’d like to pretend she doesn’t exist but I don’t think that’s best for Jon,” she adds in a whisper.”

Rhaegar gently pulls on Elia’s shoulder so she’s on her back and forced to look at him. His eyes are sad, so are hers. He kisses her softly like a preemptive apology and then wraps his arms around her so he’s holding her close, and takes a breath. “I married Lyanna in a private ceremony. It may have been frowned upon to have two wives, but it was legitimate all the same. I made so many mistakes, but I can’t go back and undo them, nor would I because it would mean not having Jon.” Rhaegar pulls Elia a little bit closer and kisses her forehead, trying to soften the blow of his admission. After all these years it still stings them both. “I can sit down and talk to him about her, but unless you have another solution I’m not sure what else can be done,” Rhaegar says stroking her hair. 

Elia sighs, she drapes her arm around his waist and cuddles into his chest, with her head below his chin, and closes her eyes. 

“I think a trip to Winterfell is long overdue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience everyone. It's been a few crazy weeks, and this week is actually my birthday. Once again it might take me a bit to get the next part up, plus I really want to finally finish my other story so I am going to try and devote some time to that, but I shouldn't keep you waiting too long. 
> 
> Up next we're headed to Winterfell.

**Author's Note:**

> And once again please forgive my dyslexia for any mistakes.


End file.
